Affliction
by Here'sTo
Summary: Hermione had always wondered if it was the idea that the French were passionate, or if it was just Fleur herself that shone so brightly, so powerfully like a burning star that Hermione could only stare in wonder before she had to look away.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione sighed softly, dragging her fingers through her thick chocolate locks as she stared blankly down at the pages of her book. She couldn't concentrate on the tiny lettering, the words written down. Her mind was elsewhere, far, far away.

Silky smooth skin, long flowing hair, that voice…

Hermione huffed in frustration, slamming her book shut and creating quite a defined bang in the still quiet of the library. Madame Pince's head jerked up sharply and she scowled over at the girl, eyes narrowing in annoyance. Hermione blushed and mouthed 'Sorry!' at the irritable librarian who shook her head and let it go, considering that Hermione was one of her favorite students.

"Is there something bothering you, Hermione?"

Hermione tensed and didn't even have to turn around to know who that liquid honey voice belonged to. It was the voice that had plagued her, haunted her dreams for the past week, ever since the Yule Ball had come to pass.

Fleur Delacour sounded amused with Hermione's frustration and as the brunette turned in her seat, looking up at the tall, blond Veela grinning down at her, she could see the twinkle in those beautiful blue eyes.

"F-Fleur," Hermione stuttered out in surprise, half standing as the Veela smiled winsomely down at her.

"Ma belle," Fleur responded in her rich, high voice, cradling a book under her arm as the sunlight shown through one of the library windows, back lighting the girl's godly beauty, lighting her up and making her glow.

Hermione couldn't look away. Her breath hitched and she couldn't stop the blush on her face as Fleur's beauty stunned her, prevented her from stumbling out an awkward response to the Veela's presence.

Hermione had been caught completely off guard and even her magnificent, amazing brain couldn't keep up, not with Fleur's sudden appearance.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to find you here. This is your sanctuary, no?" Fleur lilted out, eyeing Hermione with more than a little amusement.

Despite how awkward Hermione felt and how much she wanted to bolt for the door, she couldn't help but respect the French woman's pronunciation and grasp at the English language. She'd been here for little more than a month, yet her words no longer sounded thick and weird, nor did she frequently use the letter z when she spoke. She could even pronounce the h in Hermione's name now. There was still a slight French lilt in her speech, but it was subtle and only made her sound even nicer, even sexier for some reason. The accent was pleasant to her ears.

"Um…" Hermione wasn't quite sure what to say. The last time she'd seen the Veela this close or spoken to her was in the throes of passion, bent at the waist over the railing of a balcony, whimpering her name.

To say that Hermione was embarrassed and uncomfortable was an understatement.

"What I _do_ wonder about, though, is why you have been avoiding me?" Fleur said after an awkward pause, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow rising at Hermione's continued blushing and nervous shifting.

"W-what? Avoiding you? I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione protested, turning back to her table and shoving her books back into her bag as quickly as she could, desperate to get away. She felt the back of her neck heat up at the noise Fleur made, the slightly amused, annoyed scoff.

"Really?" Fleur said slowly, skepticism obvious in her voice as Hermione squirmed beneath her gaze, throwing her bag over her shoulder and turning, rather reluctantly to face the Veela again.

"I'm not. I don't know where you got that idea but I'm late to class, so I'll um…See you around or something," Hermione mumbled, anxious to escape the girl, the _woman's_ intimidating presence.

Before Hermione had even taken one step away, Fleur's long, delicate but strong fingers wrapped around her arm, keeping her there.

Hermione's brain overloaded at the tingle that raced and danced across her skin. The white blouse of her uniform was short sleeved and her tan skin was susceptible to Fleur's delicious touch. She wished for all the world for the first time that the library wasn't so comfortably warm that she had not worn her black robes.

Hermione's head whipped up and her lips parted as Fleur's sharp, icy blue eyes narrowed slightly and she frowned a bit, loosening her hold on the brunette's arm. The younger girl ducked her head, blushing like mad once more, swallowing hard as Fleur gently began to thumb her soft skin. She just couldn't focus when Fleur touched her, when Fleur looked at her so intensely.

"Why are you running away from me? Is it because of what we did at the ball?" Fleur demanded, sounding actually a bit hurt at Hermione's behavior.

Hermione's body was tense and she really didn't want to have this conversation. She didn't want to fall for Fleur's façade, not again. She'd already made that mistake once, and for Hermione, there was no 'fool me twice'.

"I…"

The brunette trembled as Fleur tugged on her arm, pulling her closer. Hermione tensed as Fleur dragged her deeper into the library, out of sight of Madame Pince and the other students. The blond Veela led her down the rows of tall shelves, past books as Hermione weakly protested.

They reached a dead end of a huge shelf, lined with hundreds, maybe a thousand books and Hermione's bag slipped off of her shoulder and hit the floor with a thud when Fleur backed her into it, one hand pushing firmly on her shoulder.

"F-Fleur, what are you-" Hermione was cut off with a startled squeak as Fleur's warm, soft, heart shaped lips pressed into hers, silencing her.

Hermione couldn't find the will to push Fleur away, even though her hands did push weakly, half heartedly on the blonde's shoulders but she could not resist the older girl's advances. Fleur was taller than Hermione by around two or three inches and when she pressed her body into the brunette's, Hermione's chest was pressed against soft breasts, making her head spin as Fleur's thrall made her dizzy.

Veela thrall wasn't supposed to work on women, only men. But for some reason, it worked like a charm on Hermione. It made her wet, made her moan with lust and wanting, but she could still keep her wits about her. It was something that drove her crazy, bothered her endlessly and delighted Fleur.

Fleur slowly broke the kiss as Hermione slumped, chest heaving and cheeks flushed, completely aware of the position they were in. Fleur's left hand was cupping the back of Hermione's neck as her right hand cupped her cheek and her hips were pressed firmly into the brunette's, pinning her by the waist. Their legs had become entangled and they both wore the standard plaid Hogwart's skirt, Fleur's blue, Hermione's red, leaving Hermione's skin vulnerable to Fleur's, brushing silky thighs against silky thighs and making the brunette shake as her breath came too fast or not at all.

For a long moment they remained silent, Fleur's deep blue orbs blazing passionately into Hermione's shy brown.

"Stop running from me," Fleur breathed, the soft pad of her thumb stroking Hermione's cheek and the back of her neck, sending goose bumps rising all over Hermione's body as she shivered.

Hermione swallowed and avoided the French woman's eyes, unable to take her intensity. Hermione had always wondered if it was the idea that the French were passionate, or if it was just Fleur herself that shone so brightly, so powerfully like a burning star that Hermione could only stare in wonder before she had to look away.

"Look at me," Fleur whispered but the brunette refused, too embarrassed, too overwhelmed. "Look at me!" the blond insisted sharply, easing back a bit to grab Hermione's chin in her index finger and thumb, tilting the younger girl's face up to hers.

"Why won't you talk to me? I know it has something to do with what we shared. Are you ashamed that we made love? Is it because I'm a girl?" Fleur demanded, voice beseeching but strong at the same time as Hermione squirmed.

"No!" the brunette cried back, trying not to breathe too hard, lest she inhale more of Fleur's intoxicating scent. She was already inebriated on thrall and it embarrassed her as she recalled that Veela were attuned to the scent of arousal. Fleur must have been getting a nose full at that point.

It shamed Hermione to no end how excited Fleur could get her so easily. One sweet kiss had Hermione melting, made her want to swoon but her pride prevented it.

"Then what _is_ it? Please, Hermione, you're driving me _mad_. You don't look at me in the halls, you deliberately take longer routes to avoid me and I just don't understand. What is it? I can't have been _that_ bad, surely not. I _know_ you enjoyed it, your body gives you away even now," Fleur said, her accent thickening as her emotions rose and Hermione's face flamed.

So she did know.

Hermione just couldn't find her voice. Fleur was too intense, too strong, too beautiful…

She was too _much_…

"Hermione, _talk_ to me," Fleur pleaded, voice softening as she took note of the younger girl's expression, her slight tremble.

The brunette couldn't focus, not when the tall Veela stood so close, touched her like this, held her face so gently, so strongly in her hands, those dexterous fingers gripping her warmly.

"Hermione!"

"I heard what you said to your friends, okay!" Hermione finally broke, shouting in frustration at Fleur, pushing the blond away for real this time. "Why are you pretending like you even care? I'm just another notch in your bedpost, right? Another score? A tight little fuck to play with? You had your fun so stop messing with me, okay? You _win_. You _got_ me. Go gloat to someone who cares but leave _me_ alone!" Hermione had reached a sob by the time she finished and Fleur had gone very quiet, her body going still.

Hermione's eyes were streaming, her cheeks wet with tears as she lowered her head, bottom lip quivering so hard that she had to bite down on it.

She didn't look up when Fleur spoke.

"Hermione…I need you to listen to me…You don't understand…That was not what you think it was…" Fleur said slowly but this time, Hermione was the one who scoffed.

"That's _exactly_ what you said! Don't you _dare_ try and screw with my head! That was my _first time_, you sadistic, narcissistic-" Hermione cut herself off even as her head whipped up and her heartbeat tightened, stumbling over its next beat.

Fleur's eyes had narrowed at the insults and her lips had thinned out. Veela did not take kindly to insults, not at all. The blond looked almost menacing as the brunette flinched beneath her gaze. Hermione's head ducked again but Fleur softened slightly.

"Hermione, _listen_ to me-"

Hermione did not. She simply shrugged past Fleur, wiping at her eyes furiously as she ran for the exit, leaving her things behind in distress. She heard the blonde's irritated and frustrated noise but didn't look back as she raced back past her table, ignored Madame Pince's angry look and order to slow down before she blasted out of the library at a dead sprint.

She just kept running, paying no heed to the hot mess Fleur's thrall had left between her legs and desperately tried to pay no mind to the hot ache Fleur had left in her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione poked her food absentmindedly as the great hall roared with noise during lunch time, loud British accents, deep, thick Durmstrang accents and those ever heavenly French Beauxbatons lilts that made Hermione's head ache.

"Jeez, 'Mione, you look awful, like you've been cryin' or something…" Ron mumbled through a mouthful of food and Hermione glanced up briefly through red rimmed eyes.

"I haven't, Ronald. Chew with your mouth closed," she scolded but without heart and dropped her miserable eyes back to her food with a sigh. Ron and Harry glanced at each other and then at Ginny, who was seated beside the melancholy brunette.

"Hey, Hermione…What's wrong?" the redhead asked with better tact than her brother, nudging her friend lightly, eyes concerned.

"Nothing, guys. I'm fine. Really," Hermione insisted, raising her chin a bit and giving them a weak, unconvincing smile. Nobody bought it and Hermione knew it, so she quickly changed the subject. "Have you worked out the next clue in your egg, Harry?"

"Uh…No, not yet. I'm working on it though. I think the screeching might be some kind of monster that I'll have to fight…Someone said something about a banshee…"

But Hermione wasn't listening anymore. At the sound of heated discussion in the all too familiar French language, she'd not been able to resist looking over Harry's shoulder at the Ravenclaw table, where the Beauxbaton's students had taken up residence.

Her breath hitched as she caught site of Fleur, bent over and whispering furiously with some of her friends, waving to make some kind of point and with a start, Hermione realized the blond woman's manicured hand was gesturing in her direction.

She couldn't hear the conversation in the loud commotion of the great hall at lunch time but she knew it had something to do with her. Hermione just had a feeling, and after four years in this magical world, she'd learned to trust her instincts.

Hermione's chocolate eyes stayed locked on the table behind her friends, occasionally making a noncommittal noise to convince the two boys across from her that she was listening. Fleur's cerulean eyes were blazing with that undeniable passion once more as she argued with her peers and she kept motioning towards Hermione's direction.

Hermione looked away, back at her untouched plate, biting her lip. _Probably trying to find a way to embarrass me even more_, she thought. _I can't believe I gave up my virginity to a girl I don't even know and like _that_. I'm pathetic. But I'll be damned if I let them rub it in. No way. I've still got _some_ pride left. _

Hermione sighed again, twirling her fork around listlessly as Harry, Ron and Ginny argued about who was the best seeker in Quidditch.

Hermione could still recall walking past a classroom on her way to her own class, catching the familiar accents, catching Fleur's voice, the one that had only one night previously whispered naughty things in her ear as she orgasmed, grinding her hips into a balcony railing.

"_She was a tight little fuck, too," Fleur smirked at her peers, reclining against the teacher's desk as her friends sat on the desks, listening to her speak._

Hermione had frozen on the spot, heart going still. 

_"Well she _was_ a virgin, emphasis on was here. Honestly, though. Out on the balcony? That is hardly proper," one of Fleur's fellow Beauxbatons students grinned and the rest snickered as Fleur's smirk widened._

"She didn't seem to mind. She made such cute moans, though. For all the talk, Hermione Granger really isn't awful in bed…Or balcony. She's quite amazing, actually," Fleur told them and Hermione felt like she'd been slapped.

She's gloating…She's telling everyone what happened_, Hermione thought._

The brunette didn't want to hear anymore. She fled down the hallway, fighting tears the whole way to Herbology. 

Hermione could still feel the hot, tight pain in her chest and tried not to think about it, which inevitably led to her thinking about it even more.

Before Hermione could dwell too much on it, the familiar smell and feel of Veela thrall reached her senses. And this particular thrall had her head whipping up, had her heart skipping a beat. She turned in her seat as Ron and Harry went very quiet as did the rest of the male Gryffindor population. Every female, including Ginny, was shooting daggers with their eyes at the tall blond standing directly behind Hermione.

"Bonjour, all," Fleur lilted out, her thrall nearly over powering Hermione in its sudden appearance. Hermione didn't understand how the woman had managed to maneuver all the way around the table to stand behind her.

The brunette's lips tightened and she prayed Fleur had not come to gloat about the sexual conquering she'd had over Hermione a week before. She didn't think she could stand people talking about it, the pointing, the whispers, the rumors and definitely couldn't stand it if her friends knew.

"Hagh," Ron managed while Harry stared, wisely remaining silent and thus preventing stupid, embarrassing utterances like those. The hall had gone a bit quieter and the silence was deafening to Hermione whose heart was hammering so hard that she could literally hear it in her ears.

Fleur merely raised an eyebrow at the goofy boy before turning her attention…To Hermione.

"Ma belle, I wish to speak with you. Privately," Fleur…Requested? Hermione didn't really process it that way. The brunette couldn't formulate a response and so Ginny came to her rescue.

"What would she want to talk to you for? Anything you can say to Hermione you can say to us," the redhead female glared over her shoulder at the blond, irrationally hateful due to the proximity of Fleur's thrall.

"Really…? Is this true, ma belle? Do you wish to have this conversation here?" Fleur raised her eyebrow again and Hermione felt a wave of annoyance hit her at Fleur's obvious amusement at the thought of discussing what she obviously had in mind.

_What the bloody hell does she want from me? She's already got my virginity, isn't that enough_? Hermione thought morosely, eyeing the blond warily.

"_No_. Look, Fleur, I don't want to talk to you. Can't you just leave me alone?" Hermione resorted to pleading as she finally found her small voice.

Fleur's lips thinned and Hermione saw it again, the hint of hurt in sky blue eyes before it was wiped away.

"Hermione, _please_. We need to talk. I'm not trying to upset you. Why can't you just listen to what I have to say?" Fleur scowled a bit, becoming irritated as she became frustrated. The French Veela was not used to being denied what she wanted or having to ask for it in the first place and she honestly didn't like it.

Hermione paused and Ginny scoffed while Ron began to drool, as well as a few other boys at the table.

"I already did," Hermione bit back, unable to keep all of the pained resentment out of her voice. "I'm not interested in your little cruel games you and your friends have come up with to mess with me. Really, grow up," Hermione snapped, clenching her jaw as Fleur's eyes sharpened, narrowing.

"You'll do well not to overstep boundaries based off of childish presumptions and insecurities," Fleur snipped back and Hermione's bravado was dashed in seconds by the cold look she received.

"Look, I don't know what your deal is but obviously she doesn't want to talk to you. Why don't you just bounce off and leave us be?" Ginny snapped, coming to Hermione's defense as the brunette's head dipped at Fleur's anger. Ginny was a lot harder to frighten or make feel insignificant and the fierce wave of protection for her friend was hard to dismiss, and the redhead didn't _want_ to dismiss it. She hated how Hermione _still_ reacted to bullies.

Fleur paid no mind to the girl which infuriated her to no end. The blond pinched the bridge of her nose and her features softened a bit at Hermione's expression, her lowered eyes and pursed lips.

"Hermione, look at me. I'm not trying to hurt you. _Please_, chéri, just let me explain," Fleur resorted to a soft pleading that she had never used before and Hermione's eyes jerked up at the tone of her voice. Fleur looked slightly embarrassed, the sweet pink tint to her cheeks bewildering Hermione.

People had begun to stare now and Hermione's own cheeks darkened, not to a light pink but a deep crimson as was her customary.

"Fleur…I…How am I supposed to believe that after what I heard? What do you want from me?" Hermione shook her head, feeling her throat tighten as Fleur huffed in frustration.

"That's what I'm trying to talk to about but you won't listen-" Fleur ground out, unable to resist putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder, beseeching the other girl to give her a chance to explain everything.

Hermione tensed at the touch as she once again cursed herself to the high heavens for not wearing her robes in the heat of the great hall as Fleur's fingers brushed the exposed skin of her neck and an irresistible shock jolted the brunette.

It seemed to Hermione that Fleur's fingertips, her very silky skin was charged with lightning that struck Hermione every time the woman touched her. Fleur's thrall had already made her head swim and she hated the dampening in her underwear, the way Fleur's nostrils flared and she lightly scraped her dark blue, half inch nails over Hermione's skin.

The younger girl shivered and swallowed hard, finally raising her eyes to meet Fleur's intense electric blue gaze.

"Please," Fleur whispered, "Just give me one chance to explain…"

Hermione just didn't understand. Her eyes and her ears were sending her brain conflicting information. She'd clearly seen and heard Fleur gloating to her friends yet here she was, begging Hermione to give her a chance to explain it away? Hermione had thought Fleur was just trying to mess with her, jerk her emotions around but she just couldn't believe that when the woman looked so sincere, almost desperate.

Fleur didn't _do_ desperate. Fleur didn't do anything but haughty, proud, suave and cool and desperate was the opposite of all of those things. Yet here she was, pleading with Hermione.

The food on the plates suddenly cleared away, signaling the end of lunch. Students automatically began to stand, still chattering endlessly and began to make their way towards the exit, headed for class.

Fleur and Hermione's eyes locked, the brunette's heartbeat stumbling when Fleur squeezed her shoulder gently. She was aware that a lot of the males were having difficulty standing and leaving the Veela's presence and Ginny was shooting scorching flames at the blond with her eyes.

"I…I have to go to class," Hermione stammered, tearing her eyes away from those blazing blue orbs, barely finding the strength to stand and pull from Fleur's grasp as her knees wobbled, both from the thrall and the tension.

"Hermione," Fleur's exasperation was clear as she watched the brunette walk, or rather, run, towards the exit and then Ginny was standing as the rush of students began to thin out, the last of the students finally making their way out. Harry, sensing female war followed his male instincts and dragging Ron behind him, left the great hall.

"Look, Blondie," Ginny started, fists clenched at her sides as the Beauxbatons girls moved towards their companion.

Fleur's eyebrow quirked once more and she kept her posture loose, eyeing the redhead warily and with annoyance. _Blondie_. How childish.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull or what you and Hermione were talking about, but obviously you've done something to upset her," Ginny spoke slowly and deliberately, not exactly threatening but still in a pissed sort of voice. It didn't matter that Fleur had four years on the young teenager, it really didn't.

Fleur said nothing as her friends moved behind her, protectively as Veela do.

"I don't know everything but what I do know is that I am not going to stand by and let you mess with or hurt my friend. She has enough to deal with. So if you plan on trying to hurt her, whether it's because she's close to Harry or what_ever_, you better plan to get hit back twice as hard," Ginny warned, ignoring the scowls of Fleur's companions, giving Fleur a steely look.

The corners of Fleur's lips twitched and her eyes twinkled.

"Understood, Mademoiselle Weasley, however that is not my intention at all. Rest assured, hurting Hermione is the farthest thing from my mind," Fleur replied easily, side stepping the redhead and making her way towards the door, her friends flowing behind her.

Ginny said nothing as she watched them go, following after them when she realized the teachers were watching the interaction from their table.

Hermione was halfway to Potions, head whirling when she was yanked into a supply closet, her skin sparking at the assailants touch as she yelped.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing!" she cried, heart racing in her chest as Fleur Delacour flicked on the lights, shutting the door quickly behind the ruffled brunette.

"You know, you're pretty sexy when you curse," Fleur commented, smiling in amusement at how quickly Hermione's righteous anger dissipated and she froze up, turning twenty shades of red.

"I-I…" Hermione couldn't formulate a response for all the wonderful intelligence in her big, beautiful brain and Fleur thought that was quite funny. The girl really couldn't handle sexual comments.

Ah, but Fleur herself was sex incarnate, being a Veela and all so she supposed she had more experience with it. Hermione had no experience at all…Well, some, and she knew that all too well.

"I need to talk to you," Fleur said after a moment of watching the cute girl squirm, wishing she could have dragged Hermione into a bathroom or something, anything besides this smelly little, stuffy closet.

Hermione didn't reply. She actually couldn't, not when Fleur was so close. She had about three inches of room to back up and used it fully, her back hitting the door as she tried to get away from Fleur's intoxicating thrall.

Hermione's breathing had quickened and she already felt hot, too hot as liquid silk caressed her skin, pure Fleur brushing across her senses evocatively. She was moist within moments and she knew that Fleur knew, too.

"Could you perhaps stop that?" Fleur frowned, her nostrils flaring as the scent of Hermione's arousal reached her nose. Veela were especially attuned to the scent and took their own arousal from the smell of it. It invited Fleur in, called to her primal being, especially because it was Hermione.

"Stop what?" Hermione grumbled, trying and failing to not stare at Fleur like she had no control over her hormones at all. The Veela's skin seemed to glow even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, flawless and smooth porcelain. The dip of the standard white blouse Fleur was wearing offered a tasteful amount of cleavage that made Hermione ache to reach out and cup the ample chest it hid. For some reason, the dark blue tie nestled between Fleur's breasts was so sexy…

And that plaid skirt offered a great view of creamy, tight thighs and legs that went for miles, managing just barely to distract Hermione from Fleur's darkening eyes, her flaring nostrils, her soft, heart shaped lips tinted the perfect glossy shade of pink.

"_That_," Fleur snapped irritably, frustrated with the want to touch Hermione, to take care of that arousal she could so easily smell that was so distracting her from her original intent. It was an aphrodisiac to the part Veela, coaxing her to tilt her chin and inhale deeply. It set off endorphins in her brain, quite literally making Fleur high on Hermione.

"_What_?" Hermione snapped back just as irritably as she shuffled awkwardly, squeezing her thighs together in a weak attempt to soothe the ache that had begun between them.

Fleur scowled deeply and Hermione, for some unfathomable, utterly stupid reason felt her arousal spike sharply at Fleur's anger. The blond looked undeniably hot when she was pissed, if not a little more than scary.

Fleur's eyes slid shut and rolled back at the obvious intensifying of Hermione's horniness. Her nostrils took in the musky, familiar scent and related it to the first time she'd taken care of it. A flood of memories, of high, cute moans, of soft whimpers assaulted Fleur's brain and suddenly the predator in Fleur came out without her permission.

She leaned forward, growling, purring really in the back of her throat and Hermione's eyes went wide as she tried to lean back but had already hit the door. Hermione had nowhere to go as Fleur's lips were suddenly on hers, silky smooth and so soft.

Hermione moaned reflexively as Fleur's thrall wrapped around her like a second skin, making her shudder and her skin dance. Fleur's hands grasped at Hermione's waist and she swiped her amazing tongue across the brunette's bottom lip, not asking but demanding entrance to the warm, wet cavern.

The younger girl couldn't resist, couldn't deny her. Her lips parted and Fleur's tongue darted inside, stroking Hermione's own appendage reverently. Hermione moaned again, louder this time.

Internally, Fleur was cursing. She had not intended to molest Hermione upon dragging her into the closet, but it seemed that was all she was capable of doing as soon as a touch of the girl's scent touched upon her sensitive nose. _Hermione was just too damn _excitable, she thought. _Of course…That's not exactly a bad thing…_she added as an afterthought when Hermione's hips jerked in her hands when the Veela began to massage them.

And it seemed Fleur couldn't bring herself to stop as she pushed her hands under Hermione's blouse, touching sensitive, warm, tanned skin, making the girls stomach muscles tense and her body shudder delightfully.

_What is it these British people say_? Fleur thought. _Bloody hell. _

Hermione didn't quite understand Fleur's concept of talking, but apparently, the Veela had a lot to say.

_A whole lot_, Hermione thought as Fleur's electric fingertips brushed the undersides of her breasts.

Needless to say, Hermione was going to be terribly late for Potions.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was just starting to succumb to the sweet haze fogging her brain when a rush of angry irritation hit her hard. She suddenly braced against the door, eyes flying open and pushed Fleur, not hard but certainly not gently.

"_Mm_-" Fleur grunted as their lips broke and she was forced to take a step or two back to avoid stumbling. She wobbled for a moment and then caught sight of Hermione's heaving chest, the furious look in her eyes.

_I knew it_, Hermione thought. _I _knew_ it_.

"You said you wanted to _talk_," Hermione spit out, crossing her arms over her rapidly rising and falling chest, swallowing hard and desperately trying to ignore the heat between her legs, key word here, trying.

Fleur paused, biting her lip, regarding Hermione guiltily and supposed she deserved it. Hermione had a right to be angry and the blond sighed, running a hand through her silky locks, smoothing them down as she felt her cheeks tint pink again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I didn't mean to do that," Fleur apologized, cerulean eyes remorseful, seemingly to Hermione.

"What_ever_. Look, I'm not interested in whatever game you're trying to play here so just-"

"I am _not_ trying to mess with you!" Fleur interrupted abruptly, posture straightening and eyes blazing once more, her voice rising in frustrated annoyance. She regretted it instantly as Hermione flinched slightly and closed her mouth.

"Hermione, I didn't mean to, honestly. Ma belle, I couldn't help myself. You are too beautiful to resist sometimes but I know that I should have better control and not act like an animal," Fleur said softly, tentatively, oh, so tentatively reaching her hand out to cup the brunette's cheek. Hermione would have tried to stop her but her heart was too busy trying to catch its next beat, seeing as how it had missed one when Fleur had called her beautiful.

Fleur only kept her hand at Hermione's cheek for a moment before she let it fall, lightning charged fingertips brushing Hermione's neck as her hand dropped and caused the younger girl's skin to tingle.

Hermione couldn't think of anything to say as Fleur's deep ocean blue eyes bore into hers, swirling with emotion she couldn't figure out. Hermione hated to be confused or not understand something. She always did her best to learn, striving to drink in the knowledge that would prevent both of these things.

Yet Fleur was an anomaly that Hermione could not figure out, could not break apart so easily. Her mind didn't comprehend Fleur's intensity as the air thickened with the blonde's inebriating thrall, her proximity warping Hermione's head. The Veela breathed deeply and slowly, eyes closing for a bit longer than a standard blink as Hermione remained pressed against the door, unable to think of anything to say or do.

"Hermione, I want you to listen to me. _Carefully_," Fleur breathed after a moment as she turned and began to rummage around on the shelves, bewildering the brunette.

Before Hermione could respond, she was distracted as Fleur, on tippy toes grabbed something off the top shelf, giving the brunette a nice view of her…Bottom…In the short plaid skirt.

Hermione, feeling dirty, whipped her eyes up just in time for Fleur to notice. The blond paused, the corners of her mouth quirking up almost unnoticeably, yet not enough for Hermione to miss it. She turned crimson but Fleur didn't comment, thankfully.

"What you heard was not what you think it was," Fleur continued, turning back around completely. There was only about a step of space between the two of them in the tiny closet. Fleur tilted what turned out to be air freshener towards the ceiling and sprayed, filling the closet easily with the sweet smell of flowers.

Hermione frowned, wondering what the French woman was doing.

"I know it sounded awful, but I wasn't gloating," Fleur told Hermione, catching the brunette's eyes with her own and making the girl's breath hitch.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, eyes narrowed angrily but Fleur's long, slim index finger was suddenly against her lips, silencing her. The brunette felt a slap of annoyance when she felt the impulse to suck the digit into her mouth as Fleur's thrall continued to slip over her skin, coaxing her and making her thoughts turn naughty.

Fleur's eyes flashed and she sprayed the air once again, making it smell almost too sweet. Unbeknownst to the brunette, she was trying to cover the scent of Hermione's arousal so she could keep control of herself.

_Hermione smells too good…Oh, Mother warned me this would happen…I didn't think it would be so hard though_, Fleur thought, angling her head away from the younger girl a bit.

"Just let me explain, okay?" Fleur said, pulling her hand back quickly.

Hermione eyed her warily but didn't respond otherwise and so the blond went on.

"I just…Look, Veela…When they make love to…To someone they like, they are proud. They feel accomplished. They are happy that they've been allowed to touch the one they…Like, so intimately…" Fleur trailed off slowly as Hermione's brow furrowed.

The older girl cursed the heat in her cheeks to the high heavens as Hermione's eyes flitted across the darker pink tint of her face. Fleur avoided her eyes, embarrassed by the admission of her liking of Hermione.

Honestly, though Fleur would never admit it, she feared the brunette's rejection. If Hermione thought that what they'd shared meant nothing, was just a joke, a game to hurt the girl…Fleur felt so offended by this.

"And it's customary to share with other Veela…I know I sounded like a total jerk but it wasn't _like_ that. I was excited and I…It wasn't being smug. I was proud, sure, but I…God, I'm not explaining this at all correctly," Fleur grumbled, running her hand again through her hair, ruffling it up but only making it look roughly sexy to the brunette.

Hermione was frowning again, shaking her head in confusion.

"I don't understand…You were acting like all the boys do when they've managed to get into a girl's pants," Hermione replied slowly, lifting her head to look at Fleur once more.

Fleur scowled deeply and Hermione's eyes dropped again without hesitation. For some reason, even a glimpse of Fleur's anger, whether it be directed at her or not was enough to scorch Hermione, make her want to shrivel up or run away.

"It was _nothing_ like that," Fleur snapped. "Those buffoons know nothing of the intimacy between two people. It is a conquering to them, something to rub in and gloat and boast about, a domination...Something to demean women with. That is not at _all_ like what I did or said. It is not what Veela do and most certainly not what _I _do."

"Well, that's how it sounded! And regardless of Veela custom, that was my _first time_! I don't want you spreading my business everywhere! I barely even know you, Fleur! I just don't understand any of this!" Hermione's voice rose as she went on, eyes pleading with the blond for some sort of logical answer, something to fight away the damning confusion she felt.

The older girl bit her lip and Hermione cut herself off, ducking her head as she felt hot tears pricking the back of her eyes.

"Hermione…No. No, no, no! It's not like that. I _like_ you. You aren't just some girl I wanted to fuck. That is not, in my opinion, what we did. I like you, Hermione. A _lot_. It wasn't just some random fling to me…You have to understand that…"

Hermione shook her head in denial. None of this made any sense. She flashed back to what had happened, tried to remember exactly how all this mess had started.

_Hermione's face was flushed and she was grinning widely as she stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air and to cool off, overcome by the excitement of the ball. Viktor was a bit of a clumsy dancer, but he was relatively sweet and it didn't matter anyway, seeing as how most of the music wasn't slow._

_The brunette breathed in deeply, relishing the sweet, cool air rushing into her lungs and cooling her heated skin. Her smile softened as she leaned over the balcony, arms crossed and resting on the railing. Her eyes wandered over the grounds, taking in the lake, the trees and the twinkling stars._

_"Bonjour," she heard and turned her head, catching sight of the tall, beautiful Veela from Beauxbatons. It was Fleur Delacour and Hermione cursed mentally._

_The brunette was so frustrated, even from the first day that the blond had arrived, that the girl's thrall actually affected her. She knew for certain women were supposed to hate Veela, not worship their bodies like the boys did. She didn't understand it and she hated the reaction the sight of Fleur caused in her body. Thus, she avoided Fleur as much as she possibly could while she tried to figure out the reason for it, yet for the life of her she couldn't find a book on Veela within the Hogwarts library, something that drove her absolutely mad._

_Hermione didn't even like girls. She'd never looked at them the way she looked at Fleur, never thought about them like that. Of course, she didn't really think about sexual feelings often, and when she did, she didn't fantasize. She didn't even masturbate. It just wasn't something that interested her._

_That is…Until Fleur arrived._

_"Um…H-hi, Fleur," Hermione greeted back slowly, standing up right as the blond floated onto the balcony, shutting the elegant doors behind her with a soft click._

_Hermione couldn't help but blush as she watched the beautiful girl approach, mesmerized by the easy, confident grace with which Fleur walked. She had a swagger that you couldn't miss or dismiss and it wasn't an arrogant thing, simply an acknowledgement of the fact that she was, indeed, quite grand._

_Fleur's dress was a dark wave of different shades of blue falling over the slope of her shoulders, dipping low to allow tasteful cleavage, hanging off her hips to flare slightly around her thighs. The shock of blue really brought out the girl's captivating eyes, her powerful gaze drawing Hermione in. Fleur seemed to glow with her pale, flawless, creamy skin in the dark of the night._

_The brunette immediately felt a wave of insecurity in her own, plain, periwinkle blue dress and she shifted a bit, tearing her eyes away from the blonde's magnificence even as Fleur stopped next to her, eyes going skyward._

_"It's a beautiful night, no?" the older girl commented and Hermione nodded hesitantly._  
_"Yes, it is..." she agreed, trying not to hyperventilate as Fleur's Veela heritage made itself known, probing at her senses and making her breath quicken._

_"Although I'm curious, why are you not dancing?" Fleur asked, turning her head towards Hermione and smiling slightly as her eyes roamed over the young girl's features._

_"Um…I was just trying to cool off. Why are you out here, though?" Hermione replied, squirming beneath Fleur's gaze._

_"For the same reason. Plus, Roger was annoying me," Fleur responded, frowning a bit at the mention of the irritating boy._

_"Oh? How come?" Hermione reluctantly inquired. The brunette was already feeling the effects of Fleur's thrall and she really didn't think it wise to carry on a conversation with the blond, but her polite, kind nature refused to allow her to rudely dismiss the beautiful girl merely because she was uncomfortable._

_"He keeps trying to entice me to sleep with him, no matter how many times I tell him no," Fleur grinned a bit, amused by the thought that the boy actually thought she would go to bed with him, or any boy at all. It was no secret that Veela were generally open to different sexualities and were actually often gay, yet that didn't stop every male from convincing themselves they could be the one with the magic stick to change them. And they weren't thinking about their wands…_

_"Oh," Hermione said, grinning a bit herself. She knew all about the hormonal boys and knew Fleur had to have it hard with them. If Fleur's thrall had affected Hermione's ability to think rationally, hell, Fleur would have it hard with the brunette, too. As it was, Hermione was particularly thankful that she could at least hide her attraction._

_"Yes, he's overbearing. Was Krum getting on your nerves as well?" Fleur kept the conversation going easily, turning around to lean against the railing, letting her head fall back so she could continue star gazing._

_Hermione swallowed a bit at the sight of Fleur's long, slim neck, elegantly holding her head back._

_Though the brunette would never tell anyone, she couldn't deny that Fleur's eyes shone brighter, stronger, more brilliantly than any star they could reflect hanging up there in the night sky._

_"No, not really. I actually enjoy his company very much. I was just feeling really hot," Hermione answered, leaning on the railing again._

_They continued talking for awhile and Hermione actually found herself becoming very interested in what Fleur was saying. It wasn't her thrall, the younger girl was sure of that. Fleur was just an interesting person. The blond seemed to genuinely return the sentiments as their conversation deepened and as Hermione spoke, Fleur hung on her every word, intrigued. Her deep blue eyes did not glaze or stray when Hermione went on to more intellectual topics and she in fact, debated the brunette back._

_Hermione was shocked but happily so by this. Her peers usually became bored and found a way to dismiss themselves when she went on like that, but Fleur was not the same. She had a lot to say and so did Hermione, yet somehow both girls managed to listen with sincere interest to what the other had to say. They laughed and joked easily and the brunette was pleasantly surprised to find out Fleur wasn't just an arrogant airhead, but actually quite charming and sweet._

_Somehow, their conversation managed to land on Fleur's sexuality, something to do with their topic of Veela heritage as Hermione had been unable to resist asking about it._

_"Well, many if not most Veela are bisexual at least. I really honestly doubt there is an actual purely heterosexual Veela," Fleur said, brow furrowing as she thought about it._

_During the course of their speaking, they had subconsciously moved closer, leaned in towards each other. There was only an inch of space between them and though Hermione's body was reacting delightedly at Fleur's thrall, she still didn't move away. Fleur was just too interesting of a person to talk to._

_Hermione paused, mulling over whether it would be too pushy to ask the next question she had on her mind._

_"Just out of curiosity…What is um…Your sexuality? You don't have to answer, I'm only curious," Hermione asked slowly but Fleur shrugged._

_"I don't like labels. I am open to any person who will catch my eye and steal my heart. I would never give my love away, so this person must be quite magnificent to make me fall in love," Fleur responded slowly, her eyes looking into Hermione's meaningfully, yet she meant so much more than Hermione could understand at that moment._

_"What about you?"_

_"Hmm? What do you mean?"_

_"I mean what is your sexuality, or do you not like labels as well?" Fleur inquired, tilting her head and Hermione blushed a bit._

_"U-um…I…I honestly don't know…I've never really thought about it. I don't really think about this stuff at all, really," Hermione replied, eyes skittering away from Fleur's embarrassedly._

_"Have you never been with anyone before? Male or female?" Fleur probed and Hermione squirmed, not enjoying the direction the conversation had taken. It shamed the brunette that she'd never actually had a legitimate relationship and so she chose not to respond, turning away from the blonde's curious eyes._

_"Ma belle, it is nothing to be ashamed of," Fleur said softly, figuring out the answer for herself._

_Hermione was startled when she felt a gentle hand brush her cheek, turning her face back towards the blond. Jolts of electricity shot across her skin and she was suddenly once more fully aware of Fleur's thrall, slicking over her skin and making her body feel._

_"Relax, Hermione. You have nothing to hide from me," Fleur whispered, cerulean eyes shining even in the dark._

_"But…I've never even been kissed…How is that not something to be ashamed of?" Hermione protested as Fleur let her hand slip away and Hermione's skin protested at the loss of contact. She knew that Veela were very physical creatures, yet for some reason, Fleur's touch seemed to carry more weight than that and it made her heart beat faster._

_"You simply haven't found the right person. I assume you've never wanted to kiss anyone, either, right?" Fleur responded easily, turning her body to face Hermione completely now._

_"Um…No. I've only ever wanted to kiss one person," Hermione's mind refused to allow her to lie completely for some reason. It didn't really matter so long as Fleur didn't find out that it was the blond herself that Hermione wanted to kiss._

_"Who?" Fleur inquired and Hermione blushed, on the verge of saying no one but calling Fleur no one just didn't sit well with the brunette and so she remained silent._

_Fleur paused for a long moment, eyeing the brunette with suspicion. Fleur was not one to fool. Over the years, she had learned to find out when someone had taken interest in her and she knew of Hermione's bodily reactions. It was the reason she'd followed the brunette out here in the first place._

_For when Veela find one that is not affected by their thrall that should be or…One who is affected by their thrall that shouldn't be…They know they've found their One._

_The blond had no intentions of revealing this, yet the excitement bubbling in her stomach was hard to suppress._

_"Is it…Me?" the older girl asked slowly and Hermione tensed, eyes whipping towards Fleur and completely giving herself away._

_Hermione opened and closed her mouth, struggling to find an excuse or to deny it, to do something to convince Fleur that that wasn't it, but she couldn't. Fleur wasn't stupid and Hermione just couldn't bring herself to lie._

_Fleur couldn't stop the smile on her face as Hermione nodded hesitantly, ducking her head cutely and turning crimson._

_"I see," the blond said slowly and before Hermione could react, Fleur had cupped her face and warm, irresistibly soft lips pressed to hers as the older girl cradled her cheeks gently in her palms._

_Hermione squeaked adorably but reflexively shut her eyes, screwing them up in shock as Fleur's thrall embraced her happily, rejoicing in its owners delight at the touch. Sparks seemed to fly from Fleur's every cell, lighting Hermione on fire. Fleur's smooth lips moved against hers and Hermione melted in seconds, leaning into the blond. The older girl wrapped an arm around Hermione, folding them closer, thumbing her blushing cheek sweetly._  
_  
_"Hermione, are you listening to me?" Fleur broke the brunette out of her reverie just in time to prevent her from letting her thoughts wander deeper into the memory and inevitably into the naughtier bit of it, which Hermione was ever thankful for. Still, the younger girl jumped a little.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Fleur, but I just don't know what to make of all this," the younger girl sighed, squirming as the blonde's eyes bore into hers, that blue intensity ever present.

Hermione had never met someone as strong or as passionate as Fleur. She'd never met someone so confusing, so different, so beautiful, so intense, so…Much.

And she didn't know how to handle it.

"Hermione, please just listen to me…We can talk through this…I know I'm not doing anything right but I just…Please," Fleur was using that soft, pleading tone again and Hermione was shocked to see the longing and frustration in the taller girl's eyes.

Fleur had ducked her head slightly in an effort to catch Hermione's gaze but the brunette, trembling, refused.

_This is ridiculous. I have faced down a three headed gigantic dog, man-eating plants, a murderous chessboard, a werewolf and death eaters but when this girl with her pretty eyes and her long, blond hair even breathes too hard, I can't even think straight. Literally_, Hermione thought, mentally berating herself.

"I-I'm sorry, Fleur. I just…I just can't do this. I need some time or something but just…Just leave me alone…" Hermione whispered and bit her lip when Fleur blanched as if she'd been slapped.

"Hermione, wait-"

"No, _no_! Just-You've already made me miss Potions and you know how Professor Snape is! I'm s-sorry, Fleur but I just can't with you…I just can't," Hermione breathed and it took all of her willpower to yank the door open and sprint away instead of flinging herself at the crushed blond, apologizing profusely.  
Fleur stood there for a moment, lips pursed and feeling her eyes water.

_Damn it_, she thought. _This isn't over. I am not going to mess this up. No way. She is not going to steal my heart and run away with it. She can either give me hers or give mine back but _damn it_, I am _not_ giving up this easily.  
_  
Fleur felt the Delacour determination welling inside her and she set her jaw, stepped out of the closet and took off down the hall, planning the whole time.__


	4. Chapter 4

_**Much love for the love, everyone.**_

* * *

Hermione grumbled to herself as she walked down the hall, rereading the note she'd been given halfway to her Herbology class.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_Due to a remarkable level of intelligence and your incredible work ethic, I have deemed it more appropriate for your education for you to be promoted to Seventh Year Potions class so that you may receive the knowledge adequate for you. I apologize for any inconvenience this may bring, but you will fare much better there, I believe. _

_Cheers,_

_Dumbledore_

Hermione huffed. She didn't want to be promoted to a higher class. She liked being with her friends just fine and though the prospect of learning such interesting knowledge was exciting, she really would have preferred to stay with Harry and Ron.

She sighed and supposed it really didn't matter. The odds of changing the eccentric old man's mind were slim to none and so she sucked it up as she tentatively approached the Potions dungeon, still wary of Snape. He'd given her a week of detention and docked a whopping seventy five points from Gryffindor for her behavior, so Hermione took it as a plus that she was away from her annoyed and angry peers.

She ran a nervous hand through her hair, wondering who she'd been paired up with in terms of Houses.

Slowly, she opened the door and peeked inside, hesitantly entering the drafty room. The first thing she noticed was the hot blast of pure thrall against her senses and she tensed, immediately recognizing the Beauxbatons students sitting in the desks, scattered with a few Ravenclaw students.

_Damn it!_ Hermione thought vehemently. The Veela? Honestly? Hermione felt her irritation double as she spotted that familiar silky blond hair, up at the front of the classroom.

It had been two days since she'd last seen Fleur Delacour. It had been two days of frantic avoidance and confused feelings since they'd last spoken.

Snape stopped in the middle of his lecture and everyone paused their stirring and mixing, turning in their seats to see who it was.

"Ah…Ms. Granger…I was informed that you would be joining us…You must be very proud to have skipped three years," Snape sneered and Hermione didn't respond, just gave a tiny nod as she shrugged her back higher on her shoulder, avoiding the embarrassing looks from everyone.

She'd expected his scorn and she honestly just wished he'd hurry up and get on with it so she could sit down.

"Ms. Delacour's partner is out today…You may sit next to her, and be quick about it. She will inform you of everything you have missed. And do try not to knock and cauldrons over, this Skin Color potion is quite acidic at this stage…" Snape said greasily, turning back to his desk as Hermione cursed repeatedly in her head.

_Of _course_ he sits me next to her! Why would he put me anywhere else?_ Hermione thought, annoyed and slightly panicked.

On wobbly legs, she approached the front desk, slowly. She saw Fleur in all her epic beauty turn and give her a gentle, gleaming smile and felt her stomach flip flop even more. She felt Fleur's playful thrall wrap around her like an old friend as she sat down, feeling like she'd been hit with a Jelly Legs jinx.

"Bonjour, ma belle," Fleur lilted, smiling a bit at Hermione's obvious trepidation. Fleur still wore the Ravenclaw outfit, minus the robes in favor to her old Beauxbatons uniform. Her glorious hair cascaded over her shoulders and she smiled easily at Hermione, idly twirling the wooden spoon in the cauldron before her, which was bubbling a thick, white color.

"Um…Hi, Fleur," Hermione mumbled, dropping her bag down next to her and trying not to squirm or squeeze her legs together too hard.

_It's like I'm a dog in heat every time I get around her! This is ridiculous!_ Hermione thought as she felt herself become slick instantly.

Fleur smelled positively delightful, like September rain or morning frost. Her body gave off a gentle heat that Hermione just couldn't deny made her feel very nice.

"As awkward as you may be feeling, this potion could actually go quite wrong if we don't pay attention," Fleur said, still amused as she reluctantly turned away from the blushing girl before her.

"If you will, look over my textbook and tell me what I need to add next, please, ma belle?" Fleur asked and Hermione turned even more crimson, still refusing to look at Fleur as she obeyed, leaning towards Fleur to peer at her book.

_She's doing this on purpose_, Hermione thought as she was forced to come very close to Fleur's arm, inhaling that inebriating thrall and Fleur's personal intoxicating scent. The brunette struggled to focus on the blurring text as Fleur hummed pleasantly and her breath hitched as the blond bent over next to her.

"Dry newt skin, stirred precisely four times clockwise, and then once counter clockwise," Hermione said breathlessly, abruptly sitting back when Fleur's hair brushed over her skin, making it tingle.

"Here, take over the stirring. You must keep the mixture moving always, it if it sits it will become sticky and I'll fail this class. Again," Fleur added, a hint of annoyance entering her voice as she finished speaking and Hermione nearly spontaneously combusted as the blonde's electric fingertips brushed hers when she passed the spoon onto the brunette.

Fleur took notice of the tiny spasm that went through Hermione's body, took quite a lot of amusement from it, but said nothing for a moment as she scooped up the shriveled skin next to her cauldron.

"Now I know this probably isn't the right time to ask," Fleur grinned slightly as she dropped the skin into the cauldron and it hissed, the thick white mixture bubbling over it and swallowing it hungrily.

"But will you go on a date with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Hermione's head whipped round and her lips parted in surprise as Fleur continued to smile widely.

Yet Hermione could have gone comatose when Fleur gently took her hand in her own and made sure she kept stirring the potion slowly but surely clockwise, once, twice, three times and then Hermione swallowed hard as Fleur's hand fell away and she let the brunette continue on her own.

"Well?"

"I…What?" Hermione shook her head, overwhelmed as she continued mixing the potion. "This is hardly the time or place to…To ask something like that…And I…I told you, I don't know how to deal with all this," the younger girl babble whispered, not wanting to be overheard even though she could hear several girls snickering behind her.

She felt a hot wave of angry embarrassed annoyance.

"Besides…You couldn't very well talk about how much fun you had shagging me with your friends if I was there, could you?" she snipped quietly and Fleur's eyes darkened, narrowing slightly.

"Actually, I could. And you could tell them yourself how well you believe I performed. They're dying to know," Fleur bit back, unable to keep all the anger out of her voice.

Hermione flinched slightly and the blond immediately hated herself. The girl really couldn't handle any sort of confrontation.

"Another Veela custom?" Hermione breathed after a moment, eyes glued on the slowly swirling potion before her.

"Oui," Fleur replied, resting her head in her palm and her elbow on her desk. "Ma belle, you have to let it simmer for a moment," she informed the brunette, tugging gently on the other girl's elbow and dragging her gently away from the cauldron.

Hermione nearly hyperventilated but quickly sat down, weakly pulling her arm from Fleur's grasp.

"Look, Hermione, do you honestly think I would be trying so hard to get you to talk to me if all I wanted was to…shag you? Surely you don't think I'm so shallow that I'm trying to mess with your head and your heart," Fleur huffed, desperately trying to catch Hermione's eyes.

The brunette didn't respond, busied herself playing with a loose string in her skirt…That is, until Fleur, annoyed, reached over and yanked it free, her hand brushing Hermione's thigh as she did so.

Hermione's breath caught sharply, enough for Fleur and the giggling girls behind her to notice. She whipped around and glared at Fleur's two Veela friends who covered their mouths, eyes sparkling in amusement.

The brunette, scowling, turned back to face the arched brow and grin on Fleur's face.

"What are you smirking at?" she snapped.

"I am not smirking," Fleur's eyes narrowed pointedly and Hermione snorted.

"Grinning at then."

"I'm grinning because you're so very cute when you're angry," Fleur smiled and Hermione turned twenty shades of red within seconds, lowering her head as Fleur's grin broadened.

"Please…Hermione, just give me a chance to explain…You can speak with all of us and you can talk to one of the older girls who actually knows how to tell you what happened…I honestly don't understand a lot of this myself…Ma belle…Please…Just one chance is all I need to prove to you that this isn't a joke or a game to me…I like you, Hermione…Even if you…Even if you don't like me back…" Fleur's voice was passionate and intense, even in a breathy, frustrated whisper.

Hermione blushed again, thinking over it as she fiddled with the moonstem proxy in her fingers, watching the dark blue and white root twirl.

The brunette honestly didn't know what to think. Fleur had made love to her, had made her come alive on one incredible night, albeit a bit inappropriately, over a balcony railing. She had never felt so much pleasure, had never felt anything of the sort down there and certainly had never felt so many emotions pouring into her heart and her mind at once.

Fleur was brilliantly powerful in her presence, her strong personality, the sweet undertones she had, the gentle way she'd held Hermione after she'd finished, crying softly into the crook of Fleur's elbow, trembling…

The brunette couldn't deny, a boy never would have done that. Hell, most lesbians here at Hogwarts wouldn't have done that.

She couldn't deny that Fleur had made both her body and her heart feel amazing, had made her breath go quick, made her heartbeat trip, made her burn, writhe, _live_…

Hermione had never done anything like this. Fleur was her first kiss, her first intimate touch, her first object of wary affection, her first…Breath of life, recognition that there was something more the world than fighting old Voldy and death eaters. There was more than dangerous wizards, more than just spell books and wands…

There was a different kind of magic that Hermione had yet to experience, and it seemed Fleur was the key to it.

The only thing was…Was Hermione willing to take that risk? Was she willing to put her heart on the line for the very first time? Was she willing to trust this almost complete stranger after one night of passion and after hearing what Fleur had said? Was she willing to chance breaking her heart and embarrassing herself, just to delve deeper into this mysterious woman?

_God, can I get anymore cliché?_ Hermione thought. _Screw it. If I can face down Fluffy, I can damn sure face…This gorgeous, mouth watering, heart breaking beautiful woman…Oh, Gods, I can't do this!_

Hermione warred with herself as Fleur watched, amused but nervous as to what the brunette would say. She watched as Hermione debated, shushed her giggling friends, the dorks could never keep quiet, and only just managed to realize the moonstem proxy Hermione was about to drop into the cauldron was actually the very acidic and very volatile Wolf weed.

"Hermione, don't!" Fleur yelled , standing up so fast she knocked over her chair. The brunette, startled, half jumped up out of her seat but it was too late. The dark plant hit the white mixture and Fleur reacted instinctively, without thinking.

She lunged forward, wrapped Hermione in her arms and turned just as the cauldron exploded, roaring and the potion inside spilled out, splattering over Fleur's back, the desk and the floor.

Hermione was having trouble breathing as Fleur's chest pressed to her back and her arms tightened their hold.

And then Fleur screamed, crying out in pain as she bubbling white liquid ate through her shirt and then began to eat at her skin. She released Hermione, stumbling away and down to her knees as the floor and the desk began to receive similar punishment, the acidic mixture bubbling away at them.

"Fleur!" Hermione cried, horrified by what she was seeing. The blond fell to her hands and knees, eyes screwed up in pain as Snape rushed forward, scooping a vial of clear, tinted blue liquid off his desk as he did. Using his robes, he bent over Fleur, wiping furiously at the reddened, blistered skin to get the potion off as Fleur bit her lip, silent tears spilling out of her eyes.

He uncorked the vial as Hermione watched, trembling. The whole class had stood and backed away from the mayhem, but Fleur's friends were going crazy.

Veela are naturally protective creatures and the sight of their peer in pain and hurt didn't sit well with them.

But Hermione was shocked to see that Fleur didn't sob. She just grit her teeth and hissed when Snape poured the contents of the vial over her shoulder blades as the entire back of Fleur's blouse had been burned away. The spot between her shoulder blades had taken the brunt of the mixture and was seared an ugly, painful reddish white. The graceful slope of her lower back was splattered with red-white blotches and Hermione felt like crying _for_ the Veela.

As Snape, barking orders helped Fleur up, surprisingly not really affected by her thrall and the Veela in the room frittered anxiously, Hermione realized something.

_She protected me_, the brunette thought. _She knew it was going to happen. She could have gotten away…I couldn't have. She did that to protect me…_

Hermione hastily stepped away from the sizzling floor beside her shoes, hugging herself as Fleur, shaking but refusing to cry was led from the room, holding the remains of her shirt to her chest.

And even when another teacher came in to take over the rest of the class, Fleur's friends didn't stop glaring at her.

* * *

It was the end of Potions class, twenty minutes later. Hermione was fiddling outside the Hospital wing nervously.

_I should go in…Make sure she's okay…_Hermione thought. _After all, this was pretty much my fault, anyway…Still, if she hadn't asked such distracting questions or worn a t shirt instead of that ridiculous low cut blouse…Oh, who am I kidding? I couldn't stop staring at her tits. I'm a pervert, a filthy pervert. Why would she want to go on a date with me?_

Hermione's inner rambling was cut off as she hissed in a deep breath and opened the door, peering inside nervously.

"Would you stop it, woman? I'm perfectly capable of moving about-" Fleur was saying, voice high with irritation.

Hermione couldn't stop the grin on her face as she spotted Madam Pomfrey keeping Fleur sitting on one of the beds, scolding her as she bustled about.

"_Woman?_! How dare you! You French have no manners! You have second degree burns, young lady and I'll not have you tearing the Skin Seal spell I've just administered! SIT!" Madam Pomfrey screeched as the blond opened her mouth indignantly, half rising but was met with a sharp slap over the top of her head from the fussy doctor's wand.

Hermione's eyes went wide as Fleur blinked several times but closed her mouth, glaring at Madam Pomfrey in annoyance.

The brunette bit her lip, trying to stop the giggling bubbling in her throat but couldn't help it. She laughed at the outraged but sulky expression on Fleur's normally calm and controlled face as Madam Pomfrey, grumbling under her breath the whole way, went back into her office.

Fleur sniffed something in French that Hermione didn't need to understand the language to know was rude and inappropriate. It only furthered her amusement as she stepped inside the Hospital wing, hesitantly approaching the huffy blond.

However, her amusement died quickly as she caught sight of Fleur, shirtless but not exposed. There were long bandages wrapped around her midsection, over her shoulders and chest. At the sound of Hermione's approach, Fleur looked up quickly, bright blue eyes widening and then softening with a tiny smile as she saw who it was.

Hermione wondered if she should have Fleur arrested. The girl was obviously a thief as she kept stealing Hermione's breath.

"H-hi, Fleur…" the brunette greeted slowly as she tried to gain control of her hammering heart. Fleur made her so nervous, especially in all her glory there under the sunlight, the large window above her pouring the rays over her body, lighting her silken blond hair up and making her eyes glow.

"Bonjour, ma belle," Fleur greeted just as slowly, eyeing Hermione curiously but warmly.

They didn't say anything for a moment as Hermione shifted awkwardly, stopping a little bit in front of Fleur.

"H-how are you? Does it hurt much?" the younger girl questioned shyly, motioning vaguely towards the bandages. Though Hermione tried, she honestly did, she couldn't keep her eyes off of the easy dip of Fleur's collarbone, the smooth expanse of creamy skin before the swell of her chest, the strong but feminine shoulders…

And though it did excite her, no matter how much Hermione refused to admit it aloud, she also couldn't deny that Fleur was just so beautiful, too, so much that it made her heart ache.

"No, not really. The old woman managed to apply a soothing salve which I am grateful for, though I didn't break my legs and am perfectly capable of moving about so I don't know what she's so fussy for," Fleur griped a bit, working her shoulders, rolling them and distracting the brunette for a moment.

"She's just a worried person. She takes her job very seriously," Hermione smiled slightly.

"Too seriously. Anyways…What are you doing here, ma belle? Come to check up on me, perhaps?" Fleur smirked and though it should have come off arrogant, the blonde's tone just didn't make it feel that way. It was haughty, maybe, but also playfully curious.

"Why do you call me that?" Hermione dodged, blushing as she decided she didn't want to admit she'd been worried for the Veela.

"What? Ma belle?"

"Yes…What does it mean?"

Fleur paused slowly, watching Hermione carefully.

"It means 'my beautiful,'" Fleur replied softly and Hermione's face heated up, her heartbeat twitching.

They were quiet for another long moment.

"You didn't answer my question, Hermione."

"Oh…Um…Well, I t-thought I should just…Check on you, I guess. It was my fault you're hurt anyway," Hermione responded, avoiding Fleur's eyes guiltily.

Fleur frowned.

"How in the world is it your fault that I'm hurt, other than a simple mistake?"

"You didn't have to jump in front of me. If I wasn't such a nervous idiotic mess I wouldn't have mixed the herbs!" Hermione said back and Fleur scoffed, shaking her head. Then her eyes lit up and she grinned.

"I make you nervous?"

Hermione tensed.

"I n-never said _you_ make me nervous…"

"It was implied. Why were you nervous, then? Hmm? Tell me!" Fleur sing songed and Hermione scowled.

"Shut up. You know it's you and you do it all on purpose, too. Regardless, I shouldn't have mixed the herbs and you didn't have to jump in front of me…I should be the one sitting there, not you…"

At this, Fleur frowned again.

"Non. No, I would never allow you to be hurt, ma belle. You mean too much to me," Fleur murmured and Hermione hate, hate, _hated_ the way she just had to turn crimson every time Fleur said something sweet like that.

"I…Fleur…Gods, why do you do this? One second you're like this sex predator or something and then the next you say things like that and I just…Why do you have to be so confusing?" Hermione huffed, on the verge of stomping her foot in frustration as Fleur leaned back a bit, tilting her head slightly.

"Well, technically, Veela _are_ sexual predators…"

Cue Hermione's blush.

"And if I wasn't so confusing, you'd have no interest in me. You are only interested in the complicated, the complex, that which you can't figure out, learn more about until you understand it and then it holds your eye no more. And that is most certainly not what I want," Fleur said and Hermione wanted to scream.

She instead pinched the bridge of her nose and they had a stare off for a moment.

Fleur won of course because her eyes were just too bright, too intense, too blue for Hermione to stare at for long.

"Look…What _do _you want from me? Fleur, you can't screw with my head like this. I don't know why you took interest me and I don't know what you're playing at and I certainly don't know why you'd take second degree burns just to protect me, but you can't string me along or I _will_ lose interest and that seems to be what you care about right now," Hermione analyzed Fleur in seconds and the blond couldn't help the way the corners of her mouth quirked up.

_She really is a beauty and a brain, all in one_, Fleur thought.

"Come to Hogsmeade with me. It doesn't even have to be a date, ma belle. We can go as…Friends, even acquaintances, just give me that chance to explain to you everything that's going on. I promise, I'm not trying to hurt you or mess with you…Please, Hermione…" Fleur was using that pleading tone and damn it, Hermione just couldn't find it in herself to look away from that slight pout in Fleur's bottom lip.

_She's got me_, Hermione thought.

They were silent for a long, tense moment and then Hermione sighed.

"Fine. Fine! But it's not a date," Hermione agreed and Fleur grinned, eyes twinkling so much that Hermione really just couldn't regret her decision.

"Thank you, ma belle," she smiled, leaning in and brushing her heart shaped lips across Hermione's cheek.

The brunette had only a brief moment to relish the twinge, the tingle in her skin, the rush in her veins from Fleur's touch before Madam Pomfrey appeared as if from nowhere, and shooed her off.

"Out, out! I'll not have these wounds being infected with STD's or anything of the sort! Off with you!" the woman cried and Hermione's mouth dropped in indignant anger.

"I do _not_ have STD's!"

"That's what they _all_ say! OUT!"

"That doesn't even make sense! How could STD's infect her burns?" Hermione huffed but was pushed out of the room moments later.

Though Hermione was genuinely annoyed with the semi accusations, she felt better when she heard Fleur's high, amused laughter from behind the infuriating medical woman.

She sighed and shook her head, smiling despite herself.

_Maybe she really means it. Maybe she's actually serious_, Hermione thought as she slowly began to walk towards her next class, wary of free period ending too soon.

But, as Madam Pomfrey said, that's what they _all _say.

The weekend Hogsmeade trip was only a day away. Hermione would just have to wait and see.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione sighed loudly, puffing white dragon's breath onto her rapidly numbing fingers. She shuddered in the cold, hugging herself, wishing she'd brought the pair of gloves Mrs. Weasly had knitted for her, wished she hadn't been so shallow as to the horrid grungy orange color of them.

_I swear, I get ever more frivolous as I grow older_, she thought. _And where the bloody hell is that infuriating Veela? I've been here for ten minutes!  
_  
Hermione was standing outside the Rosemary tavern, impatiently stomping her booted feet in the snow as even more of the freezing, elegant flakes floated from the gray blue sky, swirling peacefully down as the cold sun shone on.

The tavern was in Hogsmeade, a little less traveled by the Hogwarts students. It was more of a darker, serene place, as opposed to the brighter pubs in the middle of the happy village. The sign spelling Rosemary atop it was a rich, red mahogany, glossy in all its thick, blocky lettering. The glass was tinted dark, allowing any passerby to see only blurry, shadowy figures inside.

It was more of an 'adult' place, though younger people were not expressly forbidden from entering. The barmaid, Celia was a relatively lenient person about it. As long as the kids were quiet and did not disturb her older customers, she didn't even look twice at them.

Of course…If she did, they often went quiet very quickly. Two peculiar bright red eyes were enough to shut them up pretty quick.

Hermione stood alone as most of the other students were back towards her right, laughing and yelling joyfully as they played in the joke shops, overwhelmed the candy shops, all of the places the brunette wished she could have been. Or better yet, with Harry and Ron, warming her insides with butterbeer in one of the other pubs.

"Why does it have to be so bloody cold?" Hermione huffed, shuddering, pulling her beanie down tighter, covering her chilled ears.

Suddenly, Hermione yelped as strong, gentle arms wrapped around her body, pinning her own arms to her sides. The stranger squeezed her affectionately then swiftly released the squirming, startled brunette.

"Who the _hell_-" Hermione whirled only to be met with bright, merry blue twinkling eyes.

Fleur Delacour smiled winsomely down at the gaping brunette.

"You know, ma belle, you are still very sexy when you curse for some reason…"

Hermione abruptly shut her mouth, her already pink cheeks going crimson. She supposed she should have been thankful for the warm rush of blood to her face. It had all gone to her extremities in the frosty air.

The younger girl only stared so awestruck because Fleur was really beautiful today, more so than usual for some reason. Her already shining cerulean eyes were gleaming in the white light. She wore a thick but form clinging black jacket that looked to be made of some sort of velvet, leathery type material. She had the hood up over her head, and Hermione noted that it was lined in thick, white fur. Her hands were shoved into the pockets of the jacket and as the shorter girl gazed up at the gorgeous face before her, she couldn't help but notice how nice the contrast of Fleur's milky white skin was against the black jacket.

Not to mention Fleur's tighter than ever jeans fit quite nicely…

"Eyes up here, ma belle," Fleur grinned and Hermione suddenly remembered her surroundings.

"That was uncalled for. I told you this wasn't a date," the brunette snipped, avoiding those intense blue orbs.

"Ah, my apologies. You looked quite cold. I thought I would warm you up," Fleur rolled her eyes a bit.

She didn't understand why Hermione thought she could look frightening, bundled up in her own white long sleeved white shirt and a, dark blue vest with an adorable black beanie with a white puff on the end of it.

Fleur almost frowned. The girl really had to be freezing. It did bother her.

"Yeah, well…That wasn't proper. Look…" Hermione started and Fleur fought the smirk on her face; Hermione really was too cute when she was embarrassed, "If we're going to talk, then let's _talk_. Just…Don't touch me, okay? That's off limits…"

Fleur nodded slowly.

"Ma belle, perhaps we should go inside. You're going to catch your death out here," the blond suggested as she noted the slight spasm that went through Hermione's body when she stepped closer, hinting towards the door.

"I…Yeah. Right," Hermione breathed and even though she felt awkward and uncomfortable, regretted ever coming here, she couldn't deny, Fleur's thrall was slicking over her skin, enfolding her body in its embrace, warming her up quite nicely.

Fleur bit her lip as Hermione turned to the door and quickly shoved it open, the bells on top of it jingling happily.

Hermione was too. Damn. Cute.

The blast of toasty air, the scent of chocolate and roses that wafted over the brunette was intensely pleasant after the cold outside. She walked further inside, letting her eyes roam around the room curiously.

She'd never been inside the Rosemary tavern though it had always looked comfortable and intriguing to her brown eyes. She could see it looked like a tavern usually did, with booths lining the wall next to the door, the one with the one long, dark glass window. Circle tables occupied the middle of the large room, with plush red cushioning for the seats around those. It matched the booths.

The bar was what any clean bar looks like, sleek and polished with rows and rows upon rows of drinks behind it, with Celia polishing it even more, a rag in her hands.

Hermione had heard rumors that floated down from the older years about the peculiar woman and her even more peculiar red eyes. She had thick, wavy ebony hair that flowed over her shoulder, into the small of her back. Her skin was a rich tan, her eyes almond shaped and a ruby red color that made Hermione tense nervously when the unnerving barmaid glanced up, calculated the two girls entering her bar and then went right back to work.

The rumors talked about how Celia was a vampire, a failed werewolf, a banshee, many dangerous, awful creatures.

She did look quite beautiful though odd, but she wasn't scary and so Hermione merely walked further inside, not bothering to see if Fleur was still following behind. The lighting was dim but comforting as opposed to the blinding sun reflected white outside.

Hermione chose the middle most booth and sat down with her back to the door, always aware of the presence of the intimidating woman following behind her quietly. She took Hermione's eyes completely off of the couple of other, older patrons in the pub who were talking softly amongst themselves, scattered around.

Hermione wanted to explode, she felt so awkward as Fleur sat down across from her, sliding in easily into the booth. She pushed the hood of her jacket back, her luxurious blond hair not even ruffled from the jacket as it cascaded freely out around her shoulders.

The brunette's breath caught sharply as Fleur's face was revealed more fully, her pink, heart shaped lips quirked up ever so slightly, a sheen of natural gloss coating them. Her intense electric blue eyes lined with a blackish blue, her already thick lashes only accentuated by the slight bit of mascara she wore. Fleur's make up was done perfectly, the hint of blue eye shadow she wore only making those orbs pop.

Her cheeks were tinted pink from the cold and Hermione scowled when Fleur grinned, noticing her staring. The blond rested her chin in her palm, her elbow on the table, her other arm resting next to that one. She tapped her half inch, crescent moon, dark blue finger nails absentmindedly on her cheek, playfully staring right back.

They remained this way, Hermione squirming uncomfortably, Fleur comfortably watching her do so for about a minute and a half before the brunette broke.

"When is your friend getting here?" Hermione huffed, breaking her eyes from Fleur's.

The younger girl wondered vaguely if staring into those eyes could make her go blind. She wondered if it would happen faster than if she had been staring into the sun.

"She's already here," Fleur responded in her slight French lilt, eyeing Hermione in amusement and curiosity as the brunette determinedly avoided her gaze, staring out the window.

Turns out, the glass was semi one way. Hermione could clearly see outside as if it was not tinted at all. She didn't see many people going by in the winter snow, and supposed it was a good thing they had picked this particular bar to meet in.

They had both agreed they wanted this conversation to be private, away from prying eyes and ears. Hermione had already heard people talking, whispering about her and Fleur. Somehow, teenagers always find a way to put their nose in other people's business and this was no exception. Hogwarts was silently but loudly bubbling about what could possibly be going on between the drop dead gorgeous Fleur Delacour and the less attractive but still pretty Hermione Granger, one of the notorious trio.

The Rosemary, while popular was also kind of secluded. Even on its busy days, it was still rather quiet. It was the perfect place to go.

"What?" Hermione frowned, brow furrowing as she turned back to the Veela.

"I said…"

"It wasn't that kind of what," Hermione huffed and then blushed hard when Fleur arched an eyebrow at her.

"Honestly, ma belle, I can understand some of your hostility but really…There's no need to be snappish," Fleur said and Hermione scowled again.

"I am _not _snappish!"

"_Really_?"

"Yes! I am not being snappish! You're just being defensive!"

Here, Fleur's eyebrows shot up.

"I'm being _defensive_?"

"Yes, you are! You Veela really are too sensitive…" Hermione trailed off as Fleur's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

The blond made a little, indecipherable noise that had Hermione shifting nervously.

"You are quite the anomaly, Hermione…" the Veela murmured, tapping her fingers on the table with a wry, bemused expression. "If you would have taken a moment to not be so snappish," here, Hermione scowled, "You would have heard me tell you that my friend is already here. Bonjor, Annabella."

Hermione's head whipped up and she spotted the tall, beautiful girl swaying towards them as the tavern bells jingled when she opened the door, the characteristic hip sashaying the Veela always had making her walk almost as evocative as Fleur's. Almost, but not quite.

"Bonjour, Fleur," 'Annabella' greeted as she reached them and Hermione swallowed.

Fleur's thrall was hell enough to deal with. Now there were two, slicking over her skin, curiously probing at the shy girl before warmly hugging her close, saturating Hermione in their scents.

_Well, that's just awesome_, she thought sardonically, eyeing Fleur's friend as she bent down, pecked Fleur's cheek and then slid into the booth next to her.

Annabella had bright blue-green eyes with a strip of orange round the pupil. Her hair was luxurious as all Veela's were, thick and wavy down her back in auburn waves. Her skin was tanned, sun kissed, unlike Fleur's moon washed color. She was gorgeous and just as tall as her companion.

"And you must be Hermione," Annabella's eyes twinkled and Fleur tried not to snicker as Hermione squirmed uncomfortably under the heat of both their gazes. Annabella's accent was thicker than Fleur's and her voice was slightly deeper. She had not mastered the art of speaking with an English accent, or even just speaking without the French one. Her lilt was pleasant nonetheless, just thicker than Fleur's hinted one.

"Y-yes," Hermione replied hesitantly. "N-nice to meet you…"

"Aw, she is so cute," Annabella cooed, glancing at Fleur who nodded in agreement. Hermione's cheeks burned crimson and she swallowed, crossing her arms over her chest which, of course, only doubled their amusement.

"So, Fleur tells me you're the one who finally tainted her purity," Annabella commented, resting her head in her hands and eyeing Hermione inquisitively.

Hermione tensed, a jolt of shock wracking her system and Fleur rolled her eyes, nudging Annabella, reprimanding her.

_Fleur was a…She was a virgin, too?_ Hermione was astounded.

She had thought that Fleur had tons of experience. It was just the image that had been cultivated of Veela in general. And coupled with how skilled she had been when she had touched Hermione, how easily she had made Hermione…

The brunette was pulled from her musing by Fleur's words.

"Surprised, ma belle?" The blonde's eyebrows were arched and she had a soft smile on her face.

"I…Yes…I thought that you…That I…I didn't…" Hermione was at a loss and Fleur's smile only broadened.

"Oh, it's quite sad that you think I'm a slut or something…" she shook her head, pursing her lips and Hermione immediately began to backpedal, eyes going wide.

"N-no! I didn't t-think you w-were a slut! No, I never, I d-didn't-"

She was cut off by musical laughter and she huffed a bit, realizing too late that Fleur had been poking fun at her.

"You need to relax, ma belle," Fleur's grinned and Hermione scowled.

"Or maybe you should stop teasing me…"

"Oh…? You didn't mind when I _teased_ you before…"

Here, Hermione paused to take in the innuendo, to blush and then to let her scowl deepen. It took all of one second.

"That's not funny. I thought you were going to tell me what was going on but if you're just going to-"

"Mon dieu, Hermione! You take everything so seriously!" Fleur threw her hands up in exasperation. "Fine, if you're so bent on being angry with me, I'll simply not speak. You and Annabella can sort this out since obviously you hate me too much to talk to me about it," Fleur finally snapped, falling back in her seat and crossing her own arms, folding one leg over the other and locking her jaw.

Hermione blushed, squirming. Fleur's intense blue eyes had become slightly frosty.

She had finally managed to crack the icy cool front the blond had thrown up. She had genuinely annoyed and frustrated Fleur Delacour to the point where she had actually gone so far as to show that she was genuinely annoyed and frustrated.

"I don't…I don't hate you," was all Hermione could get out, going pathetically small in the face of Fleur's hurt eyes.

She didn't understand that. For all the world, she tried to convince herself that Fleur really had been trying to mess with her so she could protect her fragile heart. But she was slowly coming to realize, it couldn't possibly be true.

She would never go through all this just to play a joke, to get inside Hermione's head. It would be possible if she had been trying to get to Harry in an effort to make him choke on the Triwizard tournament, but no…Hermione had become adept at reading people.

And the hurt in Fleur's cerulean orbs? It was all too real.

"Then why do you keep acting like it?" Fleur said back, her face softening, her voice taking on a quality Hermione had not yet heard it take on yet.

Annabella, however, was not so impressed with their display.

"She's confused, obviously. I mean really, have you forgotten? People don't really appreciate our customs, especially emotional young girls," Annabella interjected, rolling her eyes and breaking the stare off they'd begun.

Hermione wondered if she should check her retinas. They seemed to be burning with the after effects of Fleur's brilliant gaze.

The brunette frowned at the term 'young girl', however.

Fleur really wasn't that much older…Okay, three years, but still…Hermione only felt young when she felt someone's intelligence and maturity far outmatched her own. This was not the case with Fleur…And a lot of other people much older than her, actually.

"Wait a second, just how old are you exactly?" Hermione inquired, turning her attention fully back to Annabella, trying to ignore the now too hot feel of the tavern.

_Damn Veela thrall_, she thought, shifting her hips and ignoring the dampening between her legs. She prayed the incense of the pub would block her scent to the Veela.

"Nineteen and counting," Annabella smirked and Hermione's frown deepened. "To answer the questions you're obviously having, no, I don't go to school with my little Fleur here. However, I am part of the Delacour Veela coven. I am her cousin. I'm here to support her in the tournament."

Hermione nodded and noticed the slight twitch of Fleur's eye at the added 'little' before Annabella had said her name.

"And to prevent nonsensical questions, I'll ask you to please let me do most of the talking. Most of the confusion you're feeling can be answered quite easily, if you please," Annabella…Okay, that really wasn't a request. For some reason, just like Fleur, it really didn't come off that way. It was more of a I-know-I'm-technically-asking-but-I'm-really-not thing.

So Hermione just hesitantly nodded, glancing at Fleur. She didn't like the way Fleur looked. The blond was looking solemn and the brunette wondered just how hurt Fleur really was. It bothered her deeply, but then Annabella began to speak.

"I'll start with the basics. When Veela mate, they do not do so with just anyone. If they feel no emotional connection, they feel no physical connection. First you must capture their hearts, and then their bodies will follow. However, once you've captured them, it may be quite difficult to shake them off. Veela are natural predators at heart, and if you get their interest, you can't really lose it until you've satisfied their desire for you as their prey."

Hermione felt her thoughts wander to Fleur being the lascivious predator and to Hermione being her helpless prey. She thought about Fleur catching her and…Eating her.

Hermione quickly stopped that particular train of thought. The incense was strong in the Rosemary tavern, but it wasn't _that_ strong.

"Although Veela may have many partners in their life, they will have only one mate. It is a bond set at birth, and it will be recognized by the Veela thrall. The Veela in particular will feel an attachment, noticed mostly through the fact that their thrall quite enjoys the company of their mate. The Veela's mate will also notice that the particular thrall of that particular Veela is playful, not just an aphrodisiac. It is contenting, it is gentle. It is affectionate. It aims not just to excite, but to hold and to cherish."

Hermione swallowed and shifted, glancing once again at Fleur who remained stony and silent, looking out the window.

_I have a feeling of where this is going…And I'm not sure I like it_, Hermione thought nervously, listening carefully as Annabella spoke. Fleur's thrall felt to her exactly as Annabella described it.

"However, this applies only to female mates. If a Veela has a rare male mate, he will not be affected at all by the Veela thrall, even though the Veela thrall is driven mad by this, thus, driving the Veela mad. It's a vice versa thing, a reversal if you will. Girls are not supposed to be affected by Veela thrall…But when they are, you know you've got a mate pair going," Annabella slowed here, trailing off as Hermione bit her lip.

"W-what are you saying here?" she murmured, even though her intelligent mind had already picked apart and understood what Annabella was saying. Now it was desperately wishing it hadn't.

"It's quite obvious what I'm saying. You and Fleur are mates. Life partners. Soul mates. You are two come together to make _one_," Annabella said matter of factly.

Hermione rocked back, eyes widening.

_Aw…Shit_, she thought.

Everything was much deeper than Hermione had first assumed. This wasn't just a quick fuck. This wasn't just a possible love fling, her first girlfriend, what_ever_. This was a deep, magical bond. This was huge. This was apparently the person she was to be stuck with for _life_. She had never even dated someone before. Fleur had been her first kiss, her first intimate touch and now she was to be her one and only? WHAT? This was madness.

There was just no way. This was too much, too fast.

"I…I don't know what to say," Hermione breathed and Fleur shook her head, biting her bottom lip before she turned to face the shell shocked brunette, evaluating her expression. What she saw was what she expected, but she didn't like it any more because of this.

"Oui, it's quite amazing, isn't it? And so romantic…I've yet to find my mate. It's quite depressing, actually," Annabella sighed wistfully, oblivious to Hermione's mini freak out. "Anyways, what you heard Fleur saying to her friends was nothing to be upset about. It was just…"

"Okay, wait a minute!" Hermione screeched, throwing her hands up.

Her magnificent brain just didn't compute.

She was fourteen. There was no way! She couldn't be expected to just tie her life to Fleur's! To a girl she didn't even know!

Annabella paused and Fleur winced.

"This is all too much, too fast! You're telling me that I'm her mate?" Hermione pointed to Fleur who scowled at being referred to in third person.

"Oui…" Annabella raised an eyebrow, finally catching on to Hermione's panic.

"And that this means I'm stuck with her, forever?"

Fleur blanched.

_I'm stuck with her, forever?_

Hermione said it like it was something awful, something to be ashamed of, something bad. And the worst part was, she actually meant it.

Annabella chose not to respond but her silence was all that Hermione needed.

"Okay…Okay, look…No. I…NO! This isn't fair! I didn't ask for that! You're dropping way too much on me and I just…" Hermione was wringing her hands together, shaking her head.

Here, Fleur broke.

"You think I asked for this, either? I was just starting my life and now I found out I can't go anywhere, do anything without you because I care too damn much for you and all you can do is act like it's the end of the world!" Fleur cried, standing up and slamming her hands down on the table.

Hermione jerked, startled. But she had had enough. Her temper, the fiery flare that always laid dormant inside was sparked and her fire roared.

She sprung up too, face to face with the angry Veela, no longer scared and intimidated, even if she was on the verge of hysteria.

"That's bull and you know it is! You know it! I'm only fourteen! That was my first time and now I'm being told I have to spend the rest of my life with you! I barely even know you!" she yelled back and the barmaid, Celia looked up as well as did the rest of her customers.

"No one said you _have_ to do anything! And it's the same way for me, in case you hadn't noticed! You were my first, too! You think you have it all figured out when in reality, you don't know _shit_, Hermione. You don't know anything about what's happening but the _first_ thing you do is act like _I'm _the bad guy, like I'm the worst person in the world, like it's _my_ fault! You think I'm not freaking out, too? Well, look again!"

Hermione went silent. Both of their chests heaved as the bar looked on. Both their eyes blazed and for once, Hermione felt she could match Fleur's intensity. They glared at each other, both shaking. She had never raised her voice like this, never yelled at anyone like she was now.

It was the same for Fleur. The Veela had never felt so out of control, so helpless as she did now.

None of this was fair. Neither of them had asked to be tied down, to be thrown into some mating thing or whatever this was. They weren't even out of school yet. It felt like an arranged marriage.

"Hey, you two! You can yell all you want, but get out of here if you're going to do it!" Celia called, red eyes narrowing as her customers were disturbed.

"Whatever, Fleur. Whatever. Just leave me the hell alone," Hermione snapped, whirling on her heel and heading for the door.

Fleur's eyes flashed.

One.

Nobody walked away from Fleur Delacour.

Two.

She had had enough of Hermione walking away from this, running away from this.

Three.

She was just downright pissed now and she wanted to yell at someone, that someone being Hermione.

"Now, you wait just a damn minute!" Fleur shouted, vaulting over the table instead of waiting for Annabella to move, hot on the brunette's heels.

The door banged and the bells warbled unhappily as they were knocked around, the door opening and closing and then opening and slamming shut again as the brunette shut the door in Fleur's face.

"Don't you slam doors in my face!"

"I'll slam as many doors as I want! Don't you tell me what to do!"

Their arguing began to fade and grow fainter into the distance as Annabella sat, bemused at the booth, tapping her fingers on the table.

"I guess I should have mentioned the fact that mates are often prone to sexual and emotional outbursts in the early stages of their mating…" she mumbled to herself. "Ah, well. It's a good thing they often go hand in hand, right? Whatever…I'm sure they'll work it out…I hope…"


	6. Chapter 6

_**Sorry for the wait. This chapter earns its M rating for profanity and slight sexual content. **_

* * *

Hermione scowled as she stomped through the snow, arms swinging angrily the whole time, hands curled into fists as she set her eyes on the middle of Hogsmeade, a little ways up the path.

_That insufferable, insensitive, arrogant_…Hermione's thoughts trailed off as she whirled on the indignant Veela that was inspiring her furious, hot headed thoughts.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Hermione cried as Fleur halted, chin tilted up and eyes blazing.

"Me?" Fleur gaped, disbelief on her face. "I think you had better watch what you say, especially when irony is heavily involved," she snapped back, straight backed and glaring down on her supposed mate. Actually, that's not quite right. The two had stopped on the delicate slope of the snow covered path. It curved upward slightly here, and Hermione was now eye to eye with Fleur.

"Oh, bite me! You have no idea what you're doing to me! Why the hell couldn't you have just stayed with Roger that night, huh?" Hermione shouted angrily, about to tear at her hair in frustration.

Fleur scoffed and Hermione turned crimson with fury this time.

"You certainly didn't mind me keeping you company instead at the time, as you seem to forget so frequently, _ma belle_," Fleur spat out, crossing her arms as their eyes locked, frosty cerulean on burning chocolate.

That did it. Hermione didn't know if it was Fleur's constant reminder of the sexual bliss and emotional turmoil she had been able to invoke in the vulnerable brunette or if it was the way she spit out ma belle as if it was something despicable.

Because Hermione couldn't lie, she'd grown fond of that term of affection and to hear Fleur say it like she did stung, more than she had thought it capable of stinging.

"Y-you-You-" Hermione stuttered through her anger, hands coming up beside her head, curling into claws that itched to clutch at her wavy brown locks or to yank out Fleur's.

"Y-you-You-Quit stuttering, Hermione. It makes you look like a spaz," Fleur mocked and Hermione's jaw locked.

Normally, the blond was not so icy. She would _never_ have treated her beloved brunette as she was now but damn it, she was pissed. _Off_. They both were and now they were aiming to hurt.

"You. Are such. A bitch," Hermione hissed, whirling back on her heel to start stomping up the slope again, having had enough with the infuriating Veela.

There was a pause.

Fleur gawked.

_Moi? _I'm_ a bitch? How dare she!_

"What the hell is your problem!" Fleur shrieked, grabbing onto Hermione's elbow and yanking her back around.

One of the many rules and guidelines that come with Veela is that you do not insult them. They are easily offended and do not react well to them at all as Hermione quickly found out.

Hermione opened her mouth, hell bent on cursing that woman into oblivion, eyes wide and furious, but before she could, Fleur's thrall lashed out without her permission.

It did not slide in sensually, curiously, playfully as it usually did before wrapping Hermione in its comfortable, hot embrace. No, this time, it was angry and hurt, like its owner. It whipped around Hermione, stealing her breath from her lungs and made her knees wobble and nearly buckle. Then it squeezed, slicking and slipping over her skin, under her clothes, over her most intimate place. When it reached the apex of the brunette's thighs, she gasped an obvious sexual gasp.

Their eyes locked. Cliché as it might have been, the world froze as they stared at each other, both of their chests heaving, halfway up the tiny hill, lips parted slightly.

In the same second they flung themselves at each other, mouths smashing together painfully, so deliciously. If it weren't for Fleur's superior strength and size, they'd have gone flying back down the hill from the force of Hermione's desperate lunge.

As it was, Fleur won out and they went toppling back into the snow, finally on top of the slope, crashing into its soft landing.

Hermione groaned and arched up, the freezing powder shocking her, which inevitably pushed her harder into Fleur.

"Mm-" Hermione whimpered, hungrily trying to get more of Fleur, more of her thrall.

_Closer. Closer_, she thought, desperately clawing at Fleur's jacket as the Veela matched her passion, her need. Her fingers laced through that glorious white-blond mane, a half sob, half moan tearing from her throat as Fleur tried to shove the noise back with her tongue.

_It feels so good_, Hermione thought and it was true. Kissing Fleur, touching Fleur, being touched by Fleur always felt amazing but now it felt _godly_. The Veela's thrall coated her system, pumped through her pounding veins, poured into her hammering heart. Hermione swore she could feel their hearts rebounding off of each other as Fleur whimpered and pushed down harder, hands gripping Hermione's ribs as she gyrated her hips.

The noise delighted the brunette as they lashed their tongues and dug in their nails, painfully so to the other. Fleur's thrall seemed to change then, no longer furiously, overwhelmingly striking at Hermione. It slowed and became gentler, softer as they poured their hurt and anger out into each other.

It was Fleur's way of talking. She talked through her actions, not her words. She talked with her body, her expressions, her movements. And for once, Hermione could understand the Veela's language.

The blond managed to work her waist between Hermione's legs, and as she kept rolling her hips, they began to grind into the brunette's center, causing a high pitched moan to emanate from the smaller girl that invited the predator in Fleur to come out and play. She growled, low in her throat and began to purr, her chest vibrating pleasantly against Hermione's as she snaked a cool hand over the brunette's heated skin, under her shirt and headed for the button of her jeans.

"Now, now…That's enough of that, you two. I didn't think you'd be the type to enjoy voyeurism, Fleur," Annabella clicked her tongue in disapproval as she approached, crunching snow beneath her feet as she walked up the path, eyeing the writhing pair with distaste.

As she reached them, she leaned down and wrapped a handful of Fleur's jacket in her hand. She yanked the blond up with strength one wouldn't have expected from the auburn haired girl.

Fleur positively snarled as she was ripped away from her mate, staggering on unsteady feet as Hermione, with glazed eyes and parted lips blinked a few times, whining softly.

"Hey, don't you start your growling. And don't Veela out you dolt," Annabella snapped, thwacking her cousin solidly upside her head as the blonde's eyes flashed red, signaling an impending transformation into her bird form.

They glared at each other but Annabella won out, as the higher rank in the Veela coven and Fleur submitted, dropping her gaze. It was just how things worked with Veela. It was an Alpha thing, and Annabella was the dominant Veela here.

"What the fuck was that!"

They were interrupted as Hermione staggered up, knees wobbly and being unsupportive.

"I think that's the first time she's ever dropped the F bomb," Fleur muttered, wincing as she reluctantly turned to a weirded out and freaked Hermione.

_Right back to square one_, the blond thought morosely, no longer angry but purely fed up. _I'm too old for this…_

"No! No, you know what? I don't want to know! You and your cousin and whoever the hell else, just stay away from me or I'll hex you right back to France!" Hermione screeched, throwing her hands up in refusal to deal with any of this nonsense anymore as she stumbled off, half falling before righting herself and stomping onward, headed back to Hogwarts, oblivious to the open mouthed stares of her peers.

Because you see, the slope of that particular tiny hill was right in the middle of Hogsmeade, and everyone who had come on the trip or who even inhabited the quaint little town had seen their display.

"Merde!" Fleur cursed as she finally noticed the drooling boys, the scandalized girls.

And then came the wolf whistling, the cat calling.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" she yelled, cheeks tinting as she began to half walk, half run towards the Beauxbatons carriage, Annabella hot on her heels.

"Really, it was quite a display…" Annabella snickered and Fleur did an abrupt about face, nose an inch from her startled cousins.

"You, too! Don't think I don't know who conveniently let that little detail slip!" she growled and Annabella swallowed uncomfortably as Fleur whipped back around and continued stomping through the snow.

"I wouldn't say _conveniently_ forgot…" she mumbled to herself as she watched Fleur go, deciding following the blond at the moment probably wasn't a good idea.

She wisely decided to go back to the Rosemary, figuring she could flirt a little with that fine Celia bartender. It beat getting her eyes gouged out by her pissy cousin.

* * *

Five Days Later

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_I understand that you and Ms. Delacour have become quite close recently. I am humbly asking for both of your presences; if you would be so kind as to retrieve Ms. Delacour on the way from your Potions class, I would be very grateful. If you have trouble finding her, I'm sure Harry's curious little map will be of use._

_Yours truly,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_P.s_

_The password is Chocolate Ruffles_

Hermione stomped through the hallway, eyes blazing furiously.

_That old interfering man! How dare he! How in the world is this his business! I haven't even talked to that woman in days! She molested me in the snow! Forget this! No way!_

Hermione's thoughts were rampant, rebellious, infuriated. Yet, she still walked on, Harry's Marauder's Map clutched in her hands, hundreds of little black dots with swirling scripted names moving next to them on the yellowed paper.

The dot in particular, the one who had Hermione's attention trapped, was quite still, shown to be in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Next to the unmoving dot was that name, _her _name...

_What could he possibly want to talk to us for? Gods, I'm sick of thinking about this. I've been feeling like crap all week, too...Ugh..._

Still, Hermione walked on, glaring off First Years, pissing of the higher years, generally ignoring everyone as she huffed and ran a hand through her hair.

_What should I even say? I don't even know what to do about her anymore_, Hermione was even whining to herself at this point.

Over the course of the past five days, her mind had been locked on Fleur Delacour with no ability to protest. Her thoughts stayed wrapped up in molten blue eyes, in thick blond hair, on soft heart shaped lips and the delicate curve of a heart shaped face, the sweet French lilt...

The infuriating words, the arguments, the fighting, the kissing...

_I don't understand how two dentists raised a girl who is now part of a trio trying to save the world from a mad wizard and also happens to be the mate of a narcissistic Veela. Really. That makes so much sense. My mind is literally blown with how much sense that makes._

Hermione drew back on sarcasm, a natural defense mechanism as she stomped up the staircase. She was so occupied with her thoughts that she forgot about the trick step and thus, pulled a Neville, her foot sinking through the floor, right up to the knee.

She let out a girlish, embarrassing yelp and several kids going by her snickered quietly.

"WHY DOES THAT EVEN _EXIST_! WHO _DESIGNED _THIS PLACE? THIS IS WORSE THAN SUPER MARIO LOGIC! What's next, invisible blocks? Give me a _break_!" Hermione screeched, yanking violently on her calf to jerk it back out of the trick step.

People turned and Hermione glared them all off, ignoring their mouthing of the word Super Mario. It was a muggle game, and they didn't understand what the volatile girl was babbling about. As it was, everyone gave Hermione a wide berth as she snatched up the map again, stomping up the steps and muttering wildly under her breath, throwing a vicious curse over her shoulder at Peeves, who was cackling madly above her.

His yelp was disturbingly satisfying as the brunette reached the top landing and walked towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, scowling the whole way. As she reached the door, she busted it open, ready to snap at Fleur and then promptly walk away.

As the door swung open and banged against the wall, Hermione stalking in, eyes blazing, mouth opened furiously to vent on the Veela she hadn't spoke to in days, she was stopped in her tracks.

Fleur.

Was topless.

Hermione's mouth snapped shut and she swallowed hard as Fleur glanced over her shoulder, eyes narrowing as she looked on at the intruder.

The brunette was dumbstruck, awestruck. Fleur was bent over the sink in the middle of the room, hands supporting her wait, arms locked straight out in front of her as she hunched down into her shoulders, the delicate slope of her back exposed. Her breasts were hidden as she was turned away, glaring over her shoulder at Hermione.

That glare pierced the brunette and stole her breath from her lungs. But Hermione's eyes were steadily drawn to the skin of Fleur's back, the creamy white scarred with even whiter bridges of risen flesh.

Her lips parted as she silently took in the scarring, the smattering patterns splashed onto Fleur's otherwise flawless skin. Hermione was reminded sharply of that day, when she'd goofed up the potion and the blond had saved her, protected her...

These scars were the result. Down between her shoulder blades they went, like white tear drops splattered down her flesh. The skin was smooth and shiny, faded burns. Right in the middle of Fleur's shoulder blades was the most interesting scar; a tear drop heart, slightly bigger than the tip of Hermione's thumb. The shape was peculiar, but oddly entrancing.

All the others just looked like rain drops, like paint splatters down Fleur's back.

"Hermione..." Fleur breathed after a long moment, breaking the silence that had come over the room as the brunette took in the injuries she felt she had caused.

The blond turned then and Hermione blinked rapidly as the slope of Fleur's back was suddenly replaced by the lascivious curve of her breasts.

_Oh gods_, Hermione thought, brown eyes going wide.

She could vaguely see the arch of Fleur's brow, the slight wry grin.

Hermione had never seen the blond naked. While they had made love, Fleur had never undressed. It had all been about touching and seeing Hermione. The sight of the girl, naked from the waist up had effectively slapped Hermione silly.

"Oh-Oh my! I'm s-so sorry! I didn't mean t-to, to walk i-in! Sorry, sorry!" Hermione babbled after a moment of staring, eyes locked on the ample chest, the swell and fullness of Fleur's breasts capped by soft pink nipples that seemed to glare accusingly at Hermione.

The brunette's hands flew up to her eyes and she turned around quickly, cheeks burning as she tried to ignore the familiar feel of Fleur's thrall happily embracing her body in its gentle warmth.

She heard the Veela chuckling as Hermione bit her lip, back turned on the half nude girl. It made her cheeks burn, and her stomach twist.

"It's quite alright ma b-...Hermione..." Fleur called, cutting herself off before she spoke the nick name she had given the brunette.

Hermione didn't miss it; her ears had pricked excitedly, like a dog's at the sound of those familiar words almost rolling off Fleur's tongue in that sweet French lilt. But the blond had stopped herself and Hermione wished that she had not. The brunette's heart, whether Hermione knew it or not, had been craving to hear those affectionate words for days.

"Um..." Hermione wasn't quite capable of speech yet. Her thoughts swirled around that beautiful chest and her mind was chastising those thoughts with no intention of stopping until they did. The younger girl felt like a great big pervert.

"You can turn back around, Hermione. I'm covered," Fleur chuckled, shaking her head in amusement at the girl's embarrassment.

"Oh...Uh, y-yeah, right..." Hermione mumbled. When the brunette turned, she expected to see Fleur wearing a shirt, but her supposed 'mate' had merely turned back around and once again, her scarred back was facing brown eyes.

Hermione could see Fleur looking at her through the mirror. If she looked right, she could also see Fleur's chest. Both of these things made Hermione squirm and avert her gaze.

"So..." she muttered, a hand rubbing the back of her red neck nervously.

_Why am I here again_? Hermione thought. _Oh, yeah. Dumbledore_.

Fleur said nothing, just let her icy blue eyes stare into Hermione's chocolate ones through the mirror. It unnerved the brunette enough so that she huffed in frustration.

"L-look...I uh, came here b-because Dumbledore wanted me t-to...Would you put a freaking shirt on!" Hermione finally yelled, fed up with her pathetic stuttering as Fleur knelt down next to her bag, breasts swinging provocatively as she did. The brunette's eyes flew to the ceiling and she tried to think of anything not sexy, despite the best efforts of Fleur's thrall, which had apparently forgiven her since their last interaction. It was joyously reacquainting itself with Hermione's body, hugging it happily and making the brunette writhe hotly, uncomfortably aroused.

_Ron, Harry, mud, dirt, toothpaste, Ron, Spongebob, Ron, ripped books, Ron...Oh, gods, this isn't working_! Hermione thought as Fleur's eyes narrowed and she lazily looked over her shoulder at the panicking girl.

"Why would I ever do that? You don't have to look..." The last of Fleur's sentence, Hermione didn't quite catch. It sounded suspiciously like 'prude'.

The brunette's eyes narrowed as she glanced back down.

"What was that?"

Fleur snorted and didn't reply as she stood back up, still shirtless, a wad of bandaging in her hand.

Hermione's brow furrowed as she watched the Veela, elegant and graceful, begin to unwind the wad and then begin to struggle to wrap it around herself, barely paying Hermione any attention. She heard the soft French curse as the bandaging continued to fall back off, refusing to stay coiled around that gorgeous body.

Through the thick tension, Hermione felt a wave of guilt and shame as she watched Fleur try to attend to her wounds, the ones the brunette was sure she was at fault for.

Even though she felt angry and awkward round the blond, the sympathy monster in her body refused to be ignored.

"D-does it...Does it...Hurt?" she asked tentatively, watching as Fleur's eye twitched in frustration as the bandages once again fell to her hips instead of wrapping around her ribs and the scarred slope of her back.

"What? No," the blond snapped and Hermione flinched slightly, lowering her eyes.

Fleur glanced at the down cast brunette, eyes softening as she sighed.

_I blame you, Annabella_, she thought, shaking her head in annoyance.

"Look...Hermione, what are you here for? You've made it quite clear how much you don't want to be around me, so it must be outside your control. Just don't bother being polite. Say it and then be happily on your way," Fleur said bitterly, her half assed attempt at being nice to the brunette failing miserably.

The older girl watched as Hermione then scowled, feeling her own lips curl, going to mirror the expression.

_What is she so angry over? I just can't win with this girl_, Fleur thought, fighting the growl of frustration in her chest as the bandages slipped from her grip and fell to the grimy floor. She just closed her eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

"What's that supposed to mean? It's not like you're all rainbows and sunshine to see me either," Hermione snipped, indignity forcing her eyes to stay locked on Fleur's through the dirty mirror.

Ah, but despite that filth, Fleur's sapphires shone with that intensity regardless and it took all of the brunette's willpower to keep that gaze.

"Right. I guess that's why I didn't try and get you to talk to me multiple times this past week. I guess that's why I didn't send you a note in Potions, only to have it ignored. I guess that's why I'm not standing here now, speaking to you, even when your last words were something like hexing me to France. Right?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times. This was not how she had planned this conversation, not at all. She had planned on making this short and sweet, but it was anything but. Fleur sounded venomous and hurt, frustrated and irritated. And Hermione couldn't argue this logic. Fleur had, indeed, tried to get the brunette to speak with her several times throughout the past couple of days, but the younger girl had ignored her.

Hermione just hadn't been ready to face the Veela after what had happened. She couldn't even face Harry and Ron. She'd been avoiding the entire population since that not so private make out session. That didn't mean the gossiping had escaped her ears.

"Or maybe you think this is still a joke. You know, even diving in front of you to scar the hell out of my skin which Veela's _hate_ to protect you from a damned potion _you_ screwed up wasn't enough to convince you. Not even the stupid pain I have to endure because my thrall can't stand not to be around would make you think I actually, really, honestly do care about you."

Fleur's voice was rising and Hermione was shrinking beneath it.

But the brunette couldn't deny...She kind of deserved this.

"God, I really don't know what you want from me. I try to tell you I love you, yes, sweetheart, _love_ you, and you shove me away. I act like I don't care and you get pissy. What? What do you want from me, Hermione?" Fleur whirled around, still freaking shirtless and Hermione blanched, ducking her head, cheeks going crimson.

"I..." The younger girl was at a loss. It was true, all of it. Apparently Fleur had been experiencing the odd aching, too. Hermione's brilliant mind calculated that it had something to do with the Veela bond, and also remembered that Veela's were notorious for hating any kind of flaw in their otherwise flawless appearance. They hated them more than insults. If anything, the flaws gave the insults some truth.

Those scars...They were brutal for anyone. She knew it had to be eating the blond up.

"I don't know...I'm sorry..." Hermione murmured, still unable to lift her head and meet Fleur's eyes.

The Veela's jaw was locked and she sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair as she evaluated the dejected, confused, shamed look on her mate's face. She took no pleasure in upsetting Hermione, even if she felt it was partially justified.

"I just...This is all so much, you know?" Hermione breathed and Fleur realized in an instant that the brunette was completely vulnerable at this point. Her soft brown eyes were watering as she lifted her head and they didn't even hesitate at Fleur's chest.

"I've never...You were my first kiss, Fleur, and you were also my first...You know...And I...I've never felt this way for anyone...You're so intense, so beautiful, so _much_...I don't know how to handle any of this. I'm scared, confused...I don't even know if I like girls, but I like _you_," Hermione went on and Fleur's face continued to soften as the brunette spoke.

The older girl was listening closely, hanging on every word. Anything to know how Hermione was feeling.

"You freak me out, but that night...You made me feel so amazing, you always make me feel amazing...Sometimes you drive me out of my skull and other times, I feel like you're the only thing keeping me grounded...These past couple of days have been hell...I don't know if it's because of this bond, but I know I hated being away from you...I just don't know how to handle this..."

Hermione trailed off and Fleur nodded slowly.

"I get it. I do, Hermione...I really get it. That's exactly how it is for me. You were _my_ first. You make me feel amazing...You're so cute, so smart, so...God, I just get this feeling inside my chest, like I'm...What do you English say? Elevé? High?" Fleur struggled to convey the thought she wanted and Hermione grinned slightly.

"You make me feel high, Hermione. Like I'm on top of the world, as long as you're by my side. Then other times, I just want to take you by your shoulders and shake you. You're infuriating, you're brilliant, you're...You're everything. You're my everything. And I know I'm a lot to handle; every Veela is. I know it's hard and I know you're scared but..."

Fleur ran her hand through her hair again, nails lightly scraping across her scalp as Hermione listened, fiddling with her thumbs.

"I'm scared, too. This is hard for me, too. But it would be so, so much easier if you would just...Trust me...And I know that's the scariest, hardest thing of all but I'm begging you...We can't do this alone...I've tried, ma belle...It doesn't work," Fleur finished, eyes searching Hermione's, that bright blue intensity scorching Hermione's retinas with its brilliance.

After a long moment of silence, Hermione mumbled something that Fleur couldn't quite hear.

"What?" she tilted her head and Hermione threw up her hands in exasperation, in defeat.

"Okay! Fine! We'll try and work this out, together! But only if you put on a damn shirt," Hermione yelled and the huge grin that appeared on Fleur's face alleviated the crimson burn in her cheeks somewhat.

"You're sure?" Fleur cocked her head to the side, a smirk gracing her lips and making Hermione's thighs twitch, agitating her privates as the blonde's thrall jumped for joy and made the brunette's hips shift.

"What? Of course, I'm sure. I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't meant it," Hermione grumbled, crossing her arms as Fleur crossed hers.

"No, I meant, you're sure you want me to put on a shirt?"

Hermione's mouth dropped and she immediately stiffened up, indignant, shocked, stammering and...Contemplating whether or not she was actually sure about that.

Fleur's bell like laughter made her scowl like mad.

"Alright, alright! Easy, ma belle. It was a joke. Just let me put on these stupid bandages first," Fleur shook her head, amused and overwhelmed with excitement as she turned back around.

_Finally. We're getting somewhere, she thought_, a gentle smile still making her lips turn upward. _I feel...__élevé...I feel high..._

They were quiet for a moment as Fleur once again resumed her struggle with those infuriating, uncooperative bandages.

"Do you, uh...Need some help or something?" Hermione called, watching as Fleur huffed and stomped her foot like a child when the white wrappings refused to wrap around her body correctly.

"No, I've got it...Merde!" the blond cursed as the bandages slipped and fell, once again, to the floor.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Really, now?"

"Oui. Wipe that grin off your face."

"Hmm? What grin?"

"That one."

"So sorry, dear. Can't seem to see my own face."

"There's a mirror right here, love. I'm sure you can feel it, though. It's practically at your ears."

"You seem to be blocking the mirror, Fleur."

There was a long pause filled with the sound of Fleur scuffling with the bandages.

"Fine. If you want to help so much, you're welcome to try, if you can keep your eyes off my breasts, ma belle."

Again, a long pause, in which Hermione blushed for a good five seconds and then hesitantly began walking towards Fleur.

The blond bit her lip as Hermione approached. And as the shorter girl reached her, she breathed in deeply, inhaling Hermione's chocolate and strawberries scent for the first time in days.

They said nothing as the brunette finally saw Fleur's scars up close, eyes roaming over the injured skin guiltily.

"I'm sorry," the younger girl whispered as Fleur watched her in the mirror.

"It's not your fault," Fleur murmured back, and for once, Hermione didn't argue.

Fleur's eyes widened slightly as a soft, delicate hand lifted up and ever so gentle fingers began to slide down her skin. Her lips pursed and she shuddered, hands going to the sink as she bent forward, gasping.

"Did that hurt?" Hermione breathed, hand twitching back nervously but Fleur shook her head.

"N-no...Veela have...Very sensitive backs...The scars...Just be gentle..." Fleur mumbled and Hermione nodded, her curious hand going back to the patchwork of scars, the starburst of scars...

For some reason, the wounds mesmerized the brunette. Her eyes took in the bridged, shiny skin, the patches of burns that had all but healed. Madam Pomfrey was an amazing nurse to have made them heal as fast as they did. But Hermione didn't mind the scars...They didn't look bad to the brunette...They were memories, each holding their own reminder of how much Fleur was willing to protect the younger girl...Her mate...

Hermione's fingers trailed over them, between and around them, Fleur twitching beneath her careful touch, head hung low as she breathed in slowly, deeply.

Fleur was hunched over, body tingling at Hermione's touch. Just the lightest of feathery brushes and she was practically on her knees, fighting off soft whimpers. She was so tender and Fleur felt so sensitive, so hyper attuned to the feel of the brunette's touch.

And when Hermione leaned forward, still entranced by the scars and brushed her warm lips across the peculiar tear drop heart shaped scar in the middle of Fleur's shoulder blades and wrapped her arms around the taller girl's waist, the blond couldn't hold in the tiny whimper that escaped her heart shaped lips.

Fleur's back arched inward at the feeling, the amazing feeling of Hermione kissing the wound gently.

"Hermione..."

The brunette's whole body went very warm at the sound of Fleur breathily crying her name. It was a sweet, intimate, private moment...

That was promptly interrupted by a cringing Myrtle.

"Ew, you two _are _lesbians. I thought it was all talk! If you two are going to do it, use another bathroom!" The ghost cried, floating out of the sink in front of Fleur.

The ghost screeched when two curses went flying towards her from remarkably quick wand hands.

"FINE! Be that way, you filthy lesbians!"

Moaning Myrtle burst into violent tears, wailing as she plunged back down in the sink, thankfully disappearing with a resounding plop.

"So..." Fleur was nearly panting and Hermione blushed as she realized she was still embracing the Veela. Regardless, she didn't let go. She couldn't seem to get her arms to obey. "What was it you came in here to tell me again?"

The brunette realized with a start that she had pretty much forgotten Dumbledore's request.

"Oh! Professor Dumbledore wants to see us in his office...Something about our relationship," Hermione informed the blond.

"What business is that of his? Snooping old man," Fleur sniffed, glancing over her shoulder at Hermione.

"Dunno. Something tells me we can't just ignore it, though," Hermione replied.

"When do we have to go see him, then?" Fleur inquired.

"The note didn't specify. I assume whenever, but soon, at least."

"Alright then. So are you going to keep ogling my goodies in the mirror, or help me with my bandaging, you pervert?"

Hermione's eyes went wide and she blushed vibrantly at having been caught peeping. The smug smirk on Fleur's face didn't help matters.

"_Kidding_, ma belle. Kidding," Fleur chuckled as Hermione rapidly began to apologize in as many different ways as she could.

The brunette huffed then, annoyed with Fleur's teasing.

"It's not my fault they're so big and in your face like," she muttered and turned the darkest red yet when Fleur busted out laughing, holding her stomach and the sink for support.

She totally wasn't supposed to hear that, Hermione thought.

"What?" Hermione snapped, crossing her arms. "Well, they are!" she cried defensively when Fleur continued to laugh, bent at the waist. "It's not that funny!"

After a moment though, Fleur's laughter became contagious and soon Hermione had begun to giggle, and then they were both gripping their stomachs, laughing hard together.

Even Myrtle down in the U-bend giggled slightly to herself.

Just as the moody, angry gloom of the two women was contagious, it seemed their joy and amusement was even more catchable, and there was no one, not even the gloomy ghost herself who could or would complain about it.

That is to say, no one but the treacherous not so ex death eater, Igor Karkaroff listening with his ear pressed to the door of one of the stalls, unbeknownst to the two girls of whom he was spying on, a sly, malicious grin alighting on his ugly features as the cogs and gears of his devilish mind turned and turned, plotting how to use this _oh so_ delightful information...


	7. Chapter 7

**_Please excuse the time skip. I didn't want to break this into two chapters. _**

* * *

As soon as Hermione (blushing over Fleur's breasts) managed to help the blond bandage her chest, they set off towards Dumbledore's office, speaking in hushed tones, but their conversation was relatively trivial. It was a pleasant thing, Hermione acknowledged, being able to speak with Fleur once more without yelling, fighting or being upset in any form.

As they trotted up the moving stairs, Hermione was so distracted by Fleur's recounting of the time Annabella had stepped on a baby dragon's tail, a baby the size of Fleur herself that her foot sank into the trick step once more.

"DAMN IT!" she screeched. She wasn't sure why that irritated her so much, but it did. Maybe it was just the pure pointlessness of the step that got to her, but she nearly spontaneously combusted in annoyance.

As for Fleur, well she was laughing heartily.

"Temper, temper," the blond grinned, crouching down to help Hermione out of the step.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's not funny," she grumbled.

It seemed her foot was really stuck this time and as she braced against the step behind her, she couldn't seem to wrench it free.

_This is retarded_, Hermione thought angrily.

She turned bright crimson when Fleur, chuckling, wrapped her long, slender fingers around the brunette's bare calf and with a deft precision, gently twisted and pulled, easing the captured foot free.

"T-thanks," Hermione muttered.

Fleur's thrall had returned full force and seemed very happy that Hermione was once again on good terms with its owner. It swirled round the place where Fleur's fingers had touched her skin, electrifying the tingles racing up Hermione's thigh.

"No problem, ma belle," Fleur smiled softly, reaching a hand out to help the brunette up.

_I need to stop wearing skirts_, Hermione thought.

As she grasped the offered hand, her breath caught in her throat. Fleur's hand was so soft and warm and little bolts of lightning skimmed across Hermione's skin at the contact.

And as they stood, Fleur did not let go of Hermione's hand and it made the younger girl's heart pound against her ribcage. She contemplated whether she wanted her hand back, but decided no, she...She actually enjoyed it.

Hermione had never held hands with someone. She discovered that she quite liked it. She liked the way Fleur's fingers laced through hers, her fingertips resting between the shorter girl's knuckles easily. It was a perfect fit.

_But we are mates, after all_, Hermione thought.

She saw Fleur hesitate, seeing whether or not the brunette would pull away. It brought a flutter of joy to Hermione's stomach when Fleur looked pleased at the continued contact.

So on they went, now holding hands.

"I...Fleur, what are we?" Hermione inquired slowly as they stood up and carefully began to walk back down the stairs, the brunette making a mental note to take a trip to the library to find a spell to fix that stupid trick step.

"What do you mean?" Fleur lilted, glancing at her companion.

"I mean...Are we like...Dating now?" Hermione said, biting her lip.

She had no idea how they were to proceed from where they were now. The brunette was winging it, something that unnerved her deeply. She was a planner, a processer, a thinker. She didn't just...Go. That's just now how Hermione worked.

But Fleur was so unpredictable, untamable. She was not processable unless she wanted to be processed and she could not merely be analyzed in moments.

It was hard for Hermione to hang with that. She wanted to try though. She had promised she would try. She just wasn't sure what that entailed.

"Do you...Want to?" Fleur asked, bringing Hermione's hand up to her lips before dragging them slowly over each knuckle.

The brunette's breath audibly hitched as Fleur glanced at her through her lashes, sapphire orbs twinkling with hope, sincerity, and vulnerability.

How was Hermione supposed to resist that look, that slight pout in Fleur's heart shaped lips, the emotion in those sparkling eyes?

"I think I do," Hermione breathed.

_First time for everything, right? Finally, I've got a girlfriend...Oh, man, I have a _girlfriend_! How did this happen_? Hermione managed to keep her silent freak out to herself.

_Figures, I finally get laid, finally get my first kiss, my first partner...And it's a girl who I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with_, she thought, torn between bewilderment, amusement, despair and joy.

"You think?" Fleur murmured.

Ah, but that wasn't enough for the blond. Hermione was slowly beginning to realize that Fleur was more insecure than she let on.

Hermione paused and deciding that she was through dodging around, she grew a pair of proverbial balls. She turned to Fleur and gently tugged their laced hands to her lips, and kissed each of the blonde's knuckles lightly.

Every time her lips graced over that soft, _soft_ skin she could feel her lips tingle, felt her heart race faster. Fleur's thrall danced over her body, hugging her warmly, like a second skin.

"I know," she smiled and Fleur's eyes positively _glowed_.

Before Hermione could blink, Fleur had pulled her close and they were attached at the mouth. Warm, moist heart shaped lips pressed to Hermione's and she whimpered slightly, legs wobbling as she melted into the taller girl, swooning as their mouths morphed together into a mutual open mouthed kind of thing that had the brunette practically on her knees.

Hermione moaned and shivered as Fleur's hands wandered as they continued to kiss. Fleur's thrall rushed through her veins and made Hermione's brain feel giddy with pleasure and excitement. She felt herself growing damp and it embarrassed her, aroused her further.

The blond slipped a hand up the back of Hermione's plain white blouse, one hand caressing the tanned skin, sliding up the gentle slope.

"Ah, young love..."

Hermione broke apart from Fleur with a startled squeak, head whipping towards the direction of the voice that had spoken.

And there was Dumbledore, walking towards them with his hands clasped in front of his chest, smiling pleasantly.

The brunette realized she was still embracing her mate tightly, still supporting herself with her hands on Fleur's shoulders.

"Veela are such peculiar creatures, are they not, Ms. Granger? With but the slightest of emotional provocation, they become such physical beings," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and Fleur bit her lip as Hermione tried to hide her face in the crook of the blonde's neck.

Interfering old man, Fleur thought, still holding Hermione close.

She couldn't bring herself to break apart from the shorter girl. She was just so warm, and her chocolate and strawberries scent was so intoxicating, inebriating.

Fleur hadn't meant to engage the brunette in such a passionate kiss. She had intended for nothing more than a chaste brush of lips, as a show of gratitude for Hermione's response, her growing ability to open up with the blond.

"Ah, but tread carefully, my dear. You two are still at the volatile stage of your relationship, and while I do understand this quite well, I must ask you both to please, remember that there are impressionable young students wandering these halls..."

Just when Fleur was sure Hermione's face could get no redder, it did.

"We wouldn't h-have-P-professor, we w-weren't, we were j-just-"

Hermione was so cute when she stuttered but Fleur's eyes narrowed slightly at Dumbledore's next words as the old man reached them.

"I know that you are too shy for such public displays of affection, Ms. Granger, but young Veela are prone to emotional and sexual outbursts-"

The brunette looked like she might die at the fact that Dumbledore had just said 'sexual', had even implied anything of the sort...

"-And while I'm sure she doesn't mean it, you two must be careful until you have passed this stage of your relationship. While I'm sure many wouldn't complain, there are younger students about...Chocolate Ruffles," he said, still jovially oblivious to the seething blond next to him.

"Are you saying I have no control over myself?" she snapped and Hermione winced at Fleur's tone.

It was engrained into the brunette's mind that you just didn't talk back to teachers and especially Dumbledore.  
"That's exactly what I'm saying," he smiled brightly, peering over his spectacles at Fleur, whose lips parted slightly, her brow furrowing.

"It's actually part of what I wanted to talk to you two about," Dumbledore went on as the Gryphon statue spun and revealed the spiraling staircase.

Hermione and Fleur glanced at each other as Dumbledore, humming a tune to himself, made his way up the stairs. They raised their eyebrows but didn't comment, just went with the flow, as they were slowly learning to do more and more often.

They unwound their arms from each other, but both simultaneously went for the other's hand. They laced together effortlessly and it made Hermione's heart miss a beat as they followed after the eccentric man.

When they reached his study and went inside, the door magically shutting after them, they found Dumbledore leaning against his desk, slowly stroking Fawks' magnificent flaming plumage, the bird warbling with pleasure.

"I have become aware of your relationship, as have many others..." the old man began, turning to them, looking strangely at peace now instead of peculiarly bubbly and bouncy.

"You have a problem with that?" Fleur immediately went on the defense. "Where I come from, this kind of relationship is not frowned upon and if you-"

Dumbledore held up his hand and Hermione squeezed Fleur's, eyeing her mate in confusion and concern.

Why is she being so sensitive? He didn't even say anything yet, Hermione thought, even as the blond relaxed but only just at the gesture.

Hermione herself was becoming increasingly nervous. She had never been good with being gossiped about and talked about, not even four years into this wizarding world as a part of the golden trio. But Fleur looked ready to snap at a moment's notice.

"While I have no tolerance for intolerance and will not allow discrimination in my school, there are those who would disagree..." Dumbledore continued. "Ms. Delacour, you are one of the champions in the tournament, are you not?"

Fleur nodded hesitantly.

"You must be aware then of the treachery, the intense completion, yes?"

Another hesitant nod.

"No offense Professor...But what exactly are you going with this?" Hermione asked slowly.

"None taken at all, Ms. Granger. All I'm implying is that there are those in this world who feel no shame, no guilt, no regret for hurting others, especially to get what they want. Be on your guard, is all I want to say to you two...Both of you," Dumbledore warned.

Fleur snorted and tilted her chin up defiantly.

"If they want to throw down, then we can throw down," she declared and Hermione glanced at her haughty mate.

She's so confident, so unafraid...

Dumbledore smiled lightly at that.

"Throw down...I wasn't expecting that particular phrase from you, Ms. Delacour. Ah, well. On to my next point; this concerns what you two were doing in the hallway..."

Hermione instantly blushed and scowled when she saw the tiny quirk to the corners of Fleur's lips.

No doubt, the Veela was slightly amused at the brunette's reaction and just at the undetectable to Hermione humor in the situation.

"I request that you speak with your cousin on this matter, Ms. Delacour, as I am no expert, but I have a book I'd like for you to read, Hermione," he said, holding out a book with a glossy blue cover.

On the front was written in swirling silver script was the words: _Le Guide des Rencontres Vélane_.

"What does that mean?" Hermione inquired, peering at the French lettering curiously.

Fleur made a tiny noise, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

"It means The Guide to Dating Veela," she informed the brunette.

"Oh," Hermione blushed. Although it embarrassed her greatly, she knew she'd be poring over every inch of the book as soon as she could. Anything to know how to deal with this insanity of being with a Veela.

"I have translated most of the pages within. I was informed by Madame Maxim, who has caught onto your relationship as well, that it is a very handy book to have," he said before turning back to Fawks who chirruped softly for attention. He was rewarded with a gentle petting, to which he gurgled at.

They were quiet for a long moment, and Hermione hand had begun to sweat in Fleur's, which humiliated her. Fleur's thrall still continued to slick over her skin, caressing her most intimate place and it nearly had the brunette squirming.

It felt good, _really_ good and that made Hermione clear her throat uncomfortably.

_I hope she can't tell_, Hermione thought desperately, but she could see Fleur's nostrils flaring, could feel the way the blond grasped her hand a little tighter.

"Is that all then?" Fleur said a bit rudely.

_I don't know what her problem is_, Hermione thought, eyeing her mate out of the corner of her eye.

"I need to speak with Ms. Granger alone," Dumbledore replied.

Fleur didn't like that, Hermione could tell but she merely pursed her lips and nodded her head.

"I'll...See you later then, I guess. Goodbye, ma belle," Fleur whispered, ducking her head to brush her lips against the corner of Hermione's mouth, causing the brunette's cheeks to light up.

As Fleur turned on her heel then, both their hands reluctantly releasing their grips, she heard Dumbledore beginning to speak with Hermione.

"You are aware of the second task occurring tomorrow, are you not, Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore was saying as the door shut behind the Veela.

Fleur shook her head. She had almost forgotten about the task, with Hermione always claiming her thoughts every second of every day. She hadn't even thought of a plan for the task. It seemed unbelievable that it was already here.

But why would Dumbledore possibly want to discuss that with Hermione?

"Weird old man," she muttered as she made her way down the staircase.

"I heard that, Ms. Delacour."

Fleur jolted, whipping around, realizing that it was the Gryphon statue that had spoken. Bewildered, she glared at it, before breaking out in a wry smirk. It winked at her before going still again.

"Of course you did, Dumbledore," she shook her head, chuckling to herself, already missing Hermione as she began to walk away, wondering what they could possibly be talking about.

* * *

The sun was hidden in the sky in the next day, thick gray clouds hiding it from the world, pouring a gloomy feel over the world as Fleur stepped out on the pier, biting her lip.

It was the day of the second task. While Fleur had managed to work out the clue and was busily casting a bubble breathing charm over her nose and mouth, that didn't relieve her anxiety. She was totally not prepared for this. She should have been paying more attention to the tournament instead of sulking over Hermione. Now that it was here, she was definitely not ready for it.

Hermione was way too distracting, too much to handle on her own. Add in this crazy tournament...

_Why did I sign up for this again_? Fleur wondered. _Oh, yeah. Riches and fame. I'd be perfectly content with ma belle. That's all I need. _

She had not seen Hermione since she'd left the brunette in Dumbledore's study the other day. Fleur missed her terribly, hoped to the high heavens that her mate was somewhere in the stands, watching.

"This day came to damn soon," she heard Cedric muttering off to her right as they peered down into the icy black depths of the lake.

"Tell me about it," Krum responded gruffly, wand at the ready.

Fleur's stomach flip flopped and she glanced at Harry on her left.

"Harry...Where is Hermione?" she asked and he turned to her, choking up slightly.

_Boys_, Fleur thought, barely containing her eye roll. There was no time for this.

However, his control was better than Ron's and he managed to stutter out a response.

"I dunno...I haven't even spoken to her in a few days...She keeps avoiding me and Ron...Fleur, what's going on with you two? Everyone's been talking and I..."

Fleur shrugged then, playing with the string on her bikini to hide her nervousness. She had to commend the boy; he was better than most at hiding his obvious appreciation. He actually kept his bright green eyes on Fleur's.

"You should probably...Talk to her about it...It's kind of private..." Fleur said slowly, glancing at him again as she watched that vile Filch character climb to the top of the pier, readying himself to fire the cannon, which he would inevitably do during the Minister of Magic's speech.

"Fleur...Do me a favor...Whatever's going on with you two...Just...Don't hurt her, alright? She's got enough to deal with, trying to help me. And I don't think Ginny'll be too happy with you if you're only using our friend to get to me, either," Harry murmured, a bit threateningly.

While Fleur had a good inch on the boy, he could look quite intimidating, whether or not he realized it.

"Why does everyone think that's what I'm trying to do?" she muttered and then blanched hard as Filch, of course, accidentally set off the cannon too soon, irritating the Minister beyond belief as he was abruptly cut off by the violent bang.

It had now been established that it didn't matter if the cannon was fired early, you just _go_ when it goes.

Harry hesitated before nodding once at the Veela.

"Good luck, Fleur," he mumbled and Fleur nodded back as the white bubble of air overwhelmed her mouth and made it impossible to speak.

With that, she arced into the air with elegant grace, diving into the freezing water as the stands exploded with cheers and song.

_Hot damn that is cold!_

Fleur shuddered and twitched slightly, trying not to hyperventilate as she tried to become accustomed to the cold, swimming hard. She knew that Cedric had kind of failed on his dive and was behind her on her right somewhere, but Krum, with surprising grace, had jumped first and splashed in with a perfect swan dive. He was already gone into the darkness.

She wasn't sure where Harry was, but even with Hermione's whereabouts daunting heavily on her mind, she felt her Delacour determination and competitive edge kick in.

Fleur began to swipe through the water, wand at the ready, teeth set. She planned on being first and not third this time. Damn dragon, breathing fire on her leg. She'd make up for it in this task.

_This is so creepy_, she thought, eyes darting around, struggling to see. _And where the hell am I going_?

Suddenly, something shot through the water and Fleur winced as it latched onto her leg, sinking its teeth in as sharp tentacles suctioned to her calf.

_What the-_

She screeched in rage as she was surrounded, the waving reeds to her left exploding with motion.

_Get. Off. Of. Me! _

Snarling with pain and anger, she felt her canines sharpen, felt her skin beginning to prickle as feathers emerged along the back of her neck and at her temples. They were latching on, sinking her down, attacking her.

With a wave of her wand, there was a blast of light and a propulsion of air in her immediate vicinity. The infuriating creatures yelped, stunned briefly, before shooting back into their underwater home, defeated.

Fleur sniffed haughtily, flipping back over and breathing deeply through her bubble. She swam on, cursing in her mind at the setback.

She must have been swimming for a good fifteen minutes before she began to reach something of interest.

_Is this it? What am I going to have to recover that they took_? She wondered, recounting the ghostly egg song in her mind.

_Come seek us where our voices sound,  
We cannot sing above the ground,  
And while you're searching, ponder this:  
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,  
An hour long you'll have to look,  
And to recover what we took,  
But past an hour - the prospect's black  
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.._

What an ominous, creepy song for an ominous, creepy place, Fleur thought as she swam into the sunken city, eyes filled with curiosity and wary anxiousness.

But the main point of interest was not the shattered buildings; it wasn't even the sickly looking, creepy merpeople swimming about, carrying spears and watching her, unwaveringly.

It was the four people floating, roped down in the middle of the city, unearthly and disturbingly serene.

Fleur's heart stopped as she recognized two of the people. One was Cho, the young girl whom Cedric Diggory had taken an interest in. She assumed that this was what he would have to recover...

And floating next to her was Hermione; unconscious, so heartbreakingly beautiful in the green-black gloom of the lake, soft brown hair floating around her like a halo.

Fleur's stomach knotted with rage as she saw what was occurring. She felt the feathers rushing, splitting out of her skin, all the way down her back, lining her spine, exploding out between the scars. She could feel her canines become fangs, felt her body surge with power and pure jealous fury. The brilliant blue plumage was emerging all over her body, down the back side first but unable to form on the front, for Fleur was not able to transform into a pure Veela.

It was like Fawks' feathers, but instead of gorgeous shades of fiery red, burning oranges and gold, Fleur's feathers were shades of glowing blue, cyans, hinting at deep purples if one looked closely enough.

The cause for her startling transformation?

There was a bulky, ugly merman with his mouth pressed to Hermione's.

Fleur reacted without thinking. The curse she shot out slammed him in the back of his filthy skull, sending him zooming to the bottom of the broken city. Satisfaction welled in Fleur, her eyes flashing bright ruby red.

It didn't last long as the merpeople screeched and rushed towards her, thirty strong.

_Merde_, she thought before the first three pronged weapon came for her chest, aiming straight for the heart.

__


	8. Chapter 8

_**Ugh, please excuse the grammatical errors in the previous chapter. I type fast and don't pay attention sometimes. That might be cause for a beta, but I'm so possesive of my writing...Anyone up for it if I can get over myself?**_

* * *

Fleur lurched sharply to the left, eyes widening in panic. But before the weapon could slash into her torso, a terrifying blur exploded onto the scene.

A flash of wide, yawning jaws, gleaming teeth, and then Fleur felt a searing pain in her right arm as one of the three prongs managed to slash her skin before it was snapped solidly in two.

The merpeople scattered and Fleur's heart pounded wildly beneath her breast as she saw what had saved her life; a...Shark?

_Krum_? Fleur cradled her arm, slowly moving her legs back and forth to hover nervously in the water.

And she was right. She recognized the boy by his yellow swimming trunks. It was Krum, but the shark transfiguration he had attempted had failed. He had nothing except the head of a shark but well, that was more than good enough. Not only could he breathe underwater, but he had probably saved Fleur's life.

He was swimming rapidly through the water, glaring the merpeople back. They hissed and spat curses at him, but remained on the edges of the sunken city, too afraid to attack.

Fleur bit her lip, wincing as she felt the warmer liquid seeping from her wound and into the water.

_I hope that's not too bad_, she thought, eyes narrowed at the pain and at the disgusting merpeople. Wish he'd slaughter them all. _How dare he put his mouth on Hermione's! Not to mention she's unconscious...!_

But was she? Was Hermione really just unwillfully sleeping at the bottom of the lake, or was she...?

_No. No..._

Fleur refused to entertain such an idea. As she began to swim forward, guarded faithfully by Krum the Shark Warrior, two more figures appeared.

It was Harry and Cedric and their eyes widened as they spotted Fleur and the blood spilling from her arm, the feathers pouring down her creamy skin, her ruby red eyes. They stopped in their tracks at the sight of Krum, hesitating, unsure.

Harry looked...Peculiar. Fleur wasn't sure what he'd done, but his greenish skin and webbed fingers and toes made him look like a fish. Cedric had used the same charm as Fleur herself.

Fleur's eyes connected with Cedric and he pointed at their friends, and then to Fleur, and then the merpeople, eyes curiously confused.

She shook her head at him and then made a rude one finger gesture at the merpeople, who jeered back. She then pointed to their friends, and then back the way they'd all come, telling Cedric she was ready to _go_.

With that, he nodded and so did Harry, who had been watching the interaction uncertainly. Krum swooped down and using his powerful jaws, snapped through the rope holding the boy Fleur had been unable to recognize. He looked surprisingly like Krum himself, without the shark head, of course...Fleur assumed it was the boy's rumored little brother.

Cedric, using his wand which he used a spell to overheat, burned through the rope holding Cho, taking the unconscious girl in his arms. It was quite a spell, considering the freezing depths of the lake.

Harry hesitated as Fleur finally made her way over to their friends, awkwardly swimming with her injuries. Out of all of them, Fleur fared the worst. Her skin was marked with the tentacles splotches of the vicious Grindylows and her right arm still bled profusely.

Harry jerked towards Hermione once, and then towards...Oh, the last person was Ginny. Fleur wondered how she'd been unable to recognize those flames for hair, that freckled skin. She'd probably just stopped looking at the others when she spotted Hermione.

Fleur solved Harry's predicament by using her talons to slash through the rope holding Hermione, making it quite clear whose person this was. As the brunette slipped into Fleur's good arm, back against Fleur's chest, the blond made a weird noise in the water, tucking her lovers head under her chin.

She warbled protectively, instincts kicking in even harder now. It had been bad enough that someone had kissed her mate, but now...

Fleur had never felt so protective. Not even when that potion had exploded at Hermione. She swore she'd come back down into this hellhole and castrate that merman, who had yet to recover from the Skullrocker curse Fleur had shot at him. He'd probably be scrambled down there for a few days, too...

Together, they turned toward the way they had come from, Krum swimming circles around them, warding off the screaming merpeople. It seemed to have been silently agreed that they would go as one back to the pier, tournament aside.

That was only reinforced when the merpeople got fed up with defeat and began hurling their spears wildly at the leaving teens. Fleur blanched and snarled angrily as one went sailing over their head.

"LET'S MOVE IT!" Cedric pressed his wand to his throat, enabling himself to speak for a brief moment. As one they shot off, amidst a hail storm of arcing weapons. Most of them seemed to be aimed at Krum and Fleur, but mostly Fleur.

The blond was nearly impaled several times as they shot off into the water, leaving the hellish city behind. She kept Hermione beneath her body, gripping her protectively. She'd take a thousand spears before she let them hurt her girl. She had yet to transform back to her human form, and as it was, this enabled her to have superior speed and strength in the water as Veela are notorious water birds.

Fleur hadn't meant to do it, but as her stomach twisted, terrified for Hermione, she left the others behind, hell bent on getting Hermione away from the merpeople. Her legs pumped and burned with the effort as her air became thin. The charm was wearing off but she didn't dare stop.

In moments, she'd streaked past the Grindylow home and then arced upwards. Surprising even herself, she shot out through the surface of the water, arcing gracefully onto the pier to exited cries and explosive cheering. The noise was deafening after the muffled depths of the lake.

Her landing, however, was much less than graceful. Fleur smashed down, twisting to land first, Hermione's weight practically crushing the blond. They skidded back and Fleur grunted loudly, her back groaning in protest.

In moments, she was surrounded, the charm popping away, having served its purpose well. Without thinking about it, she backed away from the teachers and Madame Pomfrey, hissing warily.

Her instincts reacted badly to the noise, the light, the people. She could see people's eyes going wide, their pointing and whispering. Fleur knew she was still transformed, but she refused to let go of Hermione.

Speaking of Hermione, the brunette had begun to cough and whimper slightly, eyes fluttering. Fleur's chest vibrated with a low growl, and she saw the school nurse back up warily.

"Ms. Delacour, relax...You are safe here," Dumbledore said reassuringly as he approached and Fleur hissed at him.

_What is wrong with me? I can't stand this...I just want to get away from here_, Fleur thought nervously, gripping Hermione tightly. She could see the others climbing up onto the pier, being assisted by friends and teachers. Krum shook his head wildly, trying to shake off the feel of having a gigantic head like that. Harry was writhing on the pier as his gills and fish like qualities receded away, and Cedric's charm popped.

"Agh...Fleur...?" Hermione coughed out, shifting in Fleur's arms, turning uncertainly to see who it was holding her so desperately.

Oh, my, Hermione thought as she managed to wake up, eyes fluttering as she took in Fleur for the first time.

"What happened? Fleur, are you okay? Baby, talk to me," Hermione pleaded, scrambling around in Fleur's arms to face her panicked mate.

Bewildered, Fleur glanced down at Hermione, ruby eyes confused and terrified.

"I...Hermione," was all she said as the brunette's eyes raked over Fleur's transformed appearance. Hermione seemed transfixed by Fleur's eyes, and they just stared at each other for a long moment, Madame Pomfrey trying to get the courage to come forward off to their side.

Together, as one, they leaned in for a soft kiss, lips morphing together as they dripped water onto the pier. The loud cat calling, the whooping and loud gasping didn't register to them. It wasn't planned for either one; they just went for it at the same time.

But as they kissed deeply, tongues gently playing together, Fleur's feathers dissolved into her skin and her claws shrank away. Her canines softened and her muscles relaxed, her eyes melting to a deep cerulean once more.

The blonde's hand came up the back of Hermione's neck, playing with the tiny brown hairs there, which caused Hermione to shiver and shift closer to her mate. The brunette rested her hands on Fleur's shoulders.

"AHEM!"

They broke apart, both looking dazed, Fleur now human, as Igor Karkaroff rudely cleared his throat at them, stomping onto the scene.

Hermione seemed to realize what was happening then. She squeaked, cheeks burning crimson as Madame Pomfrey tutted, muttering under her breath as she began wrapping towels around the both of them.

She couldn't dwell on the fact that she and Fleur had just open mouth kissed in front of all of Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons because the bustling nurse had just poured a searing potion down her throat.

Steam poured out of Hermione's ears and she yelped, coughing hard as Fleur received a similar treatment, amidst Karkaroff's indignant cries.

"Lesbians! Lesbians in the Triwizard tournament, Albus! I don't care if she got here first, Maxime! MY boy is the only reason she's even alive!"

Fleur rolled her eyes. _Here we go_, she thought, glaring up at the disgusting old man as Hermione trembled in the towel.

Hermione flinched when Fleur went to put her hand on the brunette's shoulder comfortingly. Fleur bit her lip.

"Hermione...?"

The brunette didn't respond. She felt as if she might die from embarrassment. They had just..._Kissed_...In front of everyone...There would be no rumors now. No...Everyone knew what was going on between the two...She could already imagine the insults, the gossiping, the talking, pointing, laughing and jeering...

"Why did you _do_ that!" Hermione suddenly yelled, staggering up, dropping the towel onto the soaking pier as she whirled on Fleur.

The blond looked bewildered once more but she too stood up quickly, shaking of Madame Pomfrey who began to scold her angrily.

"You have an inch deep cut in your arm, young lady! Do you want to die of blood loss?" she screeched but Fleur ignored her.

"Me? I didn't do anything but save you from the merman sucking on your face!" Fleur yelled back. "What are you mad at me for?"

"Merman? What are you babbling about? You were the one sucking on my face a second ago! You know how I feel about this! I said I'd try to work this out with you, not announce it to the world!" Hermione cried back.

It seemed everyone on the pier was arguing then. Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Dumbledore and the Minister were all in a shouting match off to their left. Madame Pomfrey was going nuts over Fleur's wounds.

Fleur suddenly scowled deeply, eyes flashing.

"What is wrong with you, woman? I wasn't announcing anything! In case you hadn't noticed, you kissed me, too! And so the hell what if we did announce it? Are you ashamed of me, is that it?" Fleur shouted as Madame Pomfrey got a hold of her arm and be damned what the rest of the world said about it, began to heal the deep cut along Fleur's bicep.

"NO! You know that's not it! You were supposed to rescue me from the lake, not eat my face off!" Hermione argued, face red, eyes watering.

"I DID RESCUE YOU FROM THAT STUPID LAKE! What do you think these injuries are for? Just because I thought it'd be fun? Those merpeople tried to rape you! Never mind what I had to go through to save you, oh no! We kissed, and by God, that's the worst thing that has happened this day to you?"

They were screaming now.

Madame Maxime had drawn her wand and so had Karkaroff; Dumbledore and the Minister were trying to get everyone to calm down.

"Please, everyone-!"

"-Ridiculous! Dykes in the tournament-!"

"'Ow dare you, you 'ideous man-!"

"-Kissing me in front of everyone, the nerve-"

"-I just went through hell to save you-!"

"-That doesn't mean you suck my tongue off in front of everyone-!"

"-YOU KISSED ME, TOO! What is wrong with you-!"

"Hold still, you silly Veela! You're going to reopen the wound!"

The tournament champions and their saved people were off to the side, rubbing the backs of their heads as chaos reigned. The shouting matches only grew louder. Karkaroff said one thing too cruel, too bigoted, and Maxime's curse soared over his head. He ducked and the duel was on.

Fleur tried to defend herself one too many times and then Hermione's hand slapped across her cheek, the stands erupting with excited cries, immature ooh's, and things of the like.

The blonde's head whipped to the side and her nostrils flared as her stomach boiled.

This seemed to be Hermione's wake up call. Her lips parted and she immediately began to backpedal as Fleur's cheek turned bright red and even Madame Pomfrey went quiet. Everyone had gone quiet. Even Karkaroff and Madame Maxime paused, wands raised with the Minister between them.

"F-Fleur, I-I...I d-didn't mean...I'm so sorry..." Hermione breathed, chocolate eyes going wide. The air was charged with tension as Fleur slowly turned back, swallowing hard, eyes a hard, steely blue.

Hermione flinched and took a hesitant step back as Fleur took one forward, fists clenched at her sides.

Fleur's thrall nearly crushed Hermione's ribcage then as the air pulsed with it, sexually furious. Fleur had never looked so beautiful, so angrily terrifying than in that moment. She hadn't even transformed but for the first time in Hermione's life, she was actually frightened by the blond.

This seemed to bring Fleur back to her senses, the fear on Hermione's face. As her bright blue eyes roamed over the soft curve of her lover's jaw, the swirling chocolate brown eyes, the pearly droplets of water slipping down her flawless skin...

She couldn't stay mad, couldn't stand the idea that she had invoked such an emotion in Hermione. She just couldn't do this anymore, couldn't stand Hermione's spite, her insensitiveness, her callous selfishness.

"'Ermione...Fuck thees. I give up," Fleur whispered, face broken and defeated as she whirled on her heel, leaving Hermione breathless behind her. The blonde's accent was now as thick as Maxime's, her emotion overriding the will to cloak it.

The lilt was sharp and painful to Hermione's ears as it pierced her heart.

_I give up._

The words echoed in Hermione's head and she felt sick.

"N-no...Fleur, I...Wait, please..."

But Hermione's voice was just a soft plea, and it fell on deaf ears. The crowds were still whispering, enraptured by the fight.

"Damn it!" Hermione cried, stomping her foot, horribly angry at herself.

_Why did I do that? I am so stupid! Why don't I ever think before I open my mouth_? She thought furiously, brokenly hugging herself as she shook in the cold.

"B-but...The tournament...Fleur's just won the second task..." The Minister spluttered uncertainly as the Veela walked up the path, ignoring the loud whispering in the stands.

"Like hell she has!" Karkaroff shouted then, and Madame Maxime was on him in moments, yelling back.

So it went; the argument started again and Dumbledore, fed up, paid them no mind. His heart had gone out to his trembling student.

Tears poured down Hermione's face as she stood on her own. It was beginning to rain as Madame Pomfrey, also fed up, went to tend to the other champions.

"Ms. Granger...I take it you did not read the book last night?" Dumbledore said gently, placing a comforting hand on the crying girl's shoulder.

Hermione shook her head, unwilling to listen to a lecture.

"Then I'll tell you myself...These outbursts, these fights are only normal...All will be well, I promise you..." Dumbledore murmured, patting her gently, tossing a blocking curse without looking over his shoulder. With perfect accuracy, it landed between Karkaroff and Maxime, preventing their curses from reaching their mark.

"Do not fret, Ms. Granger...Ah, but I believe Harry wishes to speak with you...And I must attend to these two buffoons..."

With that, Dumbledore returned to the enraged two still cussing each other, and began to peace make.

"Hermione...?"

Harry's voice was soft, unsure as he approached his sniffling friend.

The brunette turned then and without hesitation, flung herself at him. Harry stumbled and blushed like mad, but didn't release her. He knew how Hermione was as the brunette sobbed into his shoulder and Ron finally made it down from the stands. The redhead, confused, did what only a good friend could do.

He did not pry, neither of them did. The both just awkwardly patted the sobbing girl's back, letting her cry to her heart's content as the skies drizzled down their own misery.

Unbeknownst to them all, Fleur was at the top of the path, looking down on all of them, mouth twisted in bitter, angry hurt as she watched.

It was a sharp contrast to the miniscule sneer of the tiny beetle perched on the blonde's shoulder, human intelligence being the only reason it could even sneer at all.

Fleur swatted Rita Skeeter from her shoulder, tears rolling out of her eyes as she turned back towards Hogwarts.

The beetle buzzed with irritation and made a note to emphasize the blonde's pain and heartache in the inevitable article she was going to write.

* * *

_**Don't be too hard on Hermione, guys. Just remember Annabella's words. **_


	9. Chapter 9

**_Thanks for the love, and I know this is short, but chapter ten is already in progress and it's the weekend. I've already got part of it written. And FOR THE RECORD, her name is ANNABELLA, not ANNABELLE. It's with an A. Lol, just letting you guys know, because I've seen a couple of you referring to her like that, which is exactly what I didn't want when I named her. _**

* * *

Hermione was miserable the next day, and the day after that, and all three days after that one. All week she was miserable, her heart seeming to ache constantly. She was irritable and her temper was shorter than short. She snapped at Ron and Harry so many times that they began to avoid her, while Ginny gave her a respective distance.

No matter where Hermione went, she could feel the weight of what felt like the entire world on her shoulders. Eyes pressing in on her shoulder blades every time she went by, whispers like hissing snakes pressing in on her ear drums...

It drove her nuts. It was a wonder Hermione did not pass out from all the blood rushing to her face. She blushed constantly, kept her head ducked and side stepped anyone who tried to probe into her business with Fleur.

Speaking of the notorious blond Veela, Hermione felt like a lost puppy without the woman around, floating and talking in her sweet French lilt. She was a love sick puppy, wandering aimlessly, trying to find her way through the crowds amidst derogatory comments from the female population and often lewd comments from the male population.

Ah, but she had overheard Katie Bell laughing about how hot she thought it was that Hermione and Fleur were dating, and this made Hermione's cheeks red for the rest of the day.

Hermione was just...God, she was just _sick_. Her body constantly hurt, her skull throbbed, her stomach churned with anxiety, her eyes were either too dry or too wet and her heart ached with every beat.

_What is wrong with me? I know I miss her, but I feel like I'm dying without her_, Hermione thought miserably as she approached the Gryffindor table at lunch time, fiddling with a loose string on her skirt. She walked swiftly, habitually trying to get past all the constant stares and whispers as quickly as she could.

"Quick, hide it-"

"Easy, woman!"

"Hurry, she's coming-"

Hermione frowned slightly as she reached her friends, eyebrows arching as Ginny shoved her brother's goblet over, crumpling something up in her fist before looking anywhere but at the brunette.

Despite Hermione's consistent pain, she allowed herself a tiny smile.

"Do you want me to pretend like I didn't see you try to hide something from me, or should we just tell me what it is now instead of spending the next five minutes bugging you till you tell me anyway?"

Ginny scowled, Ron and Harry glanced at each other while Luna, off to the side, smiled pleasantly, if a bit obliviously.

"Always the sharp one, aren't you, Hermione?" Luna tilted her head, glossy blue eyes looking right through the brunette who shrugged, the small smile gone now as she sat next to Ginny.

_It's amazing that they even allow me to sit with them anymore. I can't count on two hands the amount of times I've snapped at them this past week_, Hermione thought guiltily, only adding to her misery.

"There's no way I'm letting you see this. You look like you're on your death bed, 'Mione," Ginny shook her head, biting her lip as she eyed her friend with concern. "Seriously, you're really depressed over her that much?"

Hermione winced and felt the swift rage boil in her stomach at the mere mention of that Veela, and the worrisome prodding of her friend who was only trying to help.

Breathe, Hermione thought. Just...Relax...

"Just show it to me, Ginny. Things can't get much worse than this," Hermione sighed, holding out her hand. "At least let me know what everyone's gonna being whispering about today."

Ginny hesitated for a good five seconds, glancing at Harry and Ron who shrugged helplessly, before she hesitantly handed over the crumpled paper in her fist to Hermione, who smoothed it out, looking resigned.

**_Golden Trio Breaks the Golden Veela?_**

_While the Triwizard Tournament is often filled with great excitement and juicy gossip, it seems the Golden Trio is determined not to disappoint, particularly Ms. Granger, who is not even a champion but seems to be attracting the most attention, alongside her best friend's rival champion._

As if this was not enough, it seems Ms. Granger has switched teams, despite having the two male best friends, one of which is spoken of as the Chosen One, Harry Potter.

What must Mr. Potter think that his obvious crush has betrayed him, left him heartbroken in a time of need and support, for a woman and his enemy, no less? And poor Mr. Weasly, who pines so desperately over Ms. Granger is always completely left out, with no chance at all, even less than Mr. Potter, even as he stands faithfully by this hurtful witch.

As if this was not enough, Ms. Granger seems to be a heartbreaker for both genders. Ms. Delacour, Granger's newest and most scandalous affair, was seen with her brunette lover, having a spat that quickly inspired a full tilt battle, ending with the Golden Veela slapped away and rejected, right after Ms. Delacour had saved her from the nasty lake in the second task.

Not only did Ms. Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion fight off a horde of vicious merpeople and Grindylows and outrace all the other champions to the finish line, but she was embarrassingly forced to change in her time of peril, to her ugly half Veela bird form.

Disturbingly, Ms. Granger chose to ignore all these heroic acts, and after a confusing kiss, struck her savior away and then leaned on the two boys whose hearts she had already broken for support even as her apparent lover walked away with tears in her eyes and jealousy burning her broken heart.

When will Ms. Granger's spiteful ways end? Readers, stay tuned in. It seems the Golden Trio may not be so golden after all, and it seems the female of the Trio is out to tarnish the shine of the Golden Veela champion.

I don't know about you all, but if I were a Beauxbatons student, I'd be highly upset with both Ms. Granger and_ Ms. Delacour for allowing all this mess to happen._

By: Rita Skeeter

Hermione was not mad. She was not angry, or pissed, or furious.

She was positively _enraged_.

"That filthy, spiteful, intruding, sniveling, stuck up, dirty, rotten..._BITCH_!"

The paper slammed to the table and Hermione was on her feet in seconds as her friend's and the other Gryffindor students' eyes widened.

Hermione Granger, _cursing_?

Unheard of!

Moments later, there was a similar slam across the way, at the Ravenclaw table.

"'Ow dare zat woman, 'ow dare she! _Je vais la tuer_!"

Hermione's heartbeat stumbled as she heard the thick French accent, coming from Fleur. It seemed emotion was the key to overriding the Veela's will to disguise her lilting accent as her she looked angrier than all hell.

"Moi? _I'm_ uglee? 'as she looked in a meeror lately?" Fleur cried, balling the offending paper up in her hand as Hermione stood frozen, lips slightly parted and features nonetheless still drawn into an expression of pure fury as she watched her lover shake with rage.

Everyone was stopping there eating to turn and look at both standing witches, curious and confused.

"I cannot believe...I can't _believe_..." Hermione was at a loss, mind still locked over Fleur who was being restrained by her friends even as she spat out vicious things in French before promptly setting the paper on fire with her wand.

Suddenly, a wave of owls came soaring into the great hall and a hail of mail dropped down onto the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, sending several students scattering.

The owls were gone as soon as they arrived, disappearing.

Hermione glared down at the mail as Ginny haphazardly stood, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Hermione, relax...It's just Skeeter, that's how she always is...Why don't you just sit down and talk to us about what's going on, _please_? We can help...Is that a _howler_?" Ginny paused as a red envelope fluttered upwards in front of Hermione whose eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at it. The only reason the redhead caught the familiar look was because she knew her friend so well.

Ron and Harry knew it so well than in seconds they had backed away from the table, towards Ravenclaw. Ron knew it so well that he didn't even turn to look at the seething Veela behind him, who looked all the more beautiful for their rage.

Before anyone could do or say anything in the now dead silence of the Great Hall, the howler exploded, filling the air with its screams, screams Hermione knew all too well.

The brunette had been hell bent on yelling her lungs out back at the envelope, no matter who the sender was, but the familiar voice rocked the girl back on her heals and made her chest deflate.

"_HOW DARE YOU, HERMIONE! HOW DARE YOU! TO HARRY AND RON? YOUR BEST FRIENDS, MY SONS! I ALWAYS THOUGHT OF YOU AS A DAUGHTER BUT NOW, WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING? YOU'VE BROKEN BOTH THEIR POOR HEARTS FOR SOME SLUT? HOW DARE YOU! I CAN'T BELIEVE I EVER CONSIDERED YOU TO BE A DAUGHTER TO ME! YOU OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED, ASHAMED I TELL YOU-_"

The howler exploded in midair instead of continuing to say what it obviously had to say, and Mrs. Weasly's voice disappeared with it as the flaming paper floated down to the table and dissolved, the embers burning into Hermione's retinas.

The brunette could barely breathe through the pain in her chest and she felt as if she was going to be violently sick all over the table.

_Mrs. Weasly...Not you, please, not you..._Hermione nearly whimpered the words aloud, but she couldn't because the merciful person who had ended the hellish cry of the outraged Mother Weasly was staring right into her soul with piercing blue eyes, a table away, wand still raised and pointed, straight at the brunette's chest.

Hermione's stomach churned, her heartbeat clenched uncomfortably and she shook uncontrollably. As if all the sickness she'd felt all week had returned full force and all at once, the brunette opened her mouth, throat closing and making her words come out cracked, broken as they rolled off a twisted tongue.

"F-Fleur-I c-can't-I'm, I-I'm s-s-sor-I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she gasped, hugging herself tightly as she positively burned under the stares of all her peers, eyes spilling over before she turned, shrugged off Ginny's hand and ran for all she was worth.

"I-I-I'm s-s-sorry, HA! What a bunch of dykes!"

Draco Malfoy had to duck at least fifteen curses and then some as the hall lit up with flashing lights and yelling at the heartless Slytherin boy couldn't keep his snide comments to himself.

Dashing through those flashing lights, holding her hand to her shattered chest was Hermione, who wondered why her ankles didn't burn away with Fleur so hot on her heels.

Luna Lovegood stood next to the Veela table, head tilted, glossy eyes observing the ensuing madness and the outcry of the teachers with a pleasant, misguided curiosity.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much. It's just a large group of wigglymumps. They'll be alright, so long as they don't spontaneously combust due to emotional friction...Hmm? Is there something on my face?" Luna's already tilted head tilted even further as the Veela eyed the bizarre girl with bewilderment.

"Why do people always look at me like that? Really, there must be some lolipuffs around...Ah, well, can't be helped if everyone's a bit off their rocker...Just glad I'm perfectly sane..."

With that, she skipped away, leaving the Veela women mouthing the words wigglymumps and lolipuffs to themselves.


	10. Chapter 10

_**So much sappy stuff in this. Ah, well. Hope you guys enjoy it. It's longer than the last, I guess to make up for it. **_

* * *

Hermione sprinted through the halls, fully aware of the slap of Fleur's shoes on the floor behind her. She didn't stop, she just couldn't. Even when her chest ached and her lungs burned, Hermione ran on, barely aware of where she was going.

She felt her tears spilling down, like twin rivers down her cheeks as she gasped and sobbed. All that running around with Harry and Ron over the years had really built up the brunette's cardio, Fleur noticed as she chased after the smaller girl relentlessly.

Fleur realized that even though this was true, she could, at any point, catch the shorter girl with relative ease. Just reach out a hand and wrap it round that bronze bicep and hold on tight and this chase would inevitably end, but she didn't, and she wasn't sure why.

Being a Veela, her cardio was five times better than a human's, even just having a part of Veela heritage and her long, lithe legs easily matched Hermione's smaller but nonetheless swift strides.

The blond just stayed on Hermione's heels, listening to her pant as she ran, feeling her heart twinge with each sob or gasp. Fleur stayed with her fleeing lover on each turn, each jerk around every corner, determination keeping her legs and arms pumping after the younger girl.

Soon, the stony walls stopped blurring by as Hermione crashed through a set of doors and they were outside, the sun blinding them both for a moment, so much that the brunette tripped, spun a full haphazard 360 and then kept going forward, knees and palms scraping the dewy grass briefly as she hurtled onward.

_Effortless grace under pressure_, Fleur acknowledged, lips parting as she watched her lover continue to run, seeing nothing but waves of chocolate ringlets and the flexing muscles in Hermione's legs.

_Stop running from me_, Fleur thought, lips tightening in frustration as Hermione still went on, tirelessly, legs arcing under the bright sunshine pouring down on them.

They raced across the Hogwarts lawn, all out sprinting. As they neared the large water willow on the lakeside halfway across the lawn, Fleur had enough.

She lunged and wrapped her arms around Hermione's midriff, tackling her, spinning as she did to land first.

Couldn't have Hermione getting hurt, could she?

Fleur landed roughly by the trunk of the tree, smack on her back and both girls grunted, breathless. The Veela winced as her injuries were jarred, Grindylow bites, sore burns, merpeople spike cuts and all.

"Stop," Fleur breathed into Hermione's ear as the girl jerked and struggled in her hold. "Hermione, please, _stop_...Just _stop_..." Fleur whispered, holding the squirming girl tightly.

Moments later, Hermione collapsed, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath through her great, heaving sobs.

Fleur did the only thing she could; she held on tighter, sitting up and pulling Hermione into her lap, arms wrapping round the smaller girl's, embracing her. Instinctively, Fleur's head tucked into the crook of Hermione's neck and she brushed her nose along the girl's shoulder, whimpering soothingly at her mate.

It was a Veela thing as they began to rock slowly back and forth, Fleur's own tears spilling out now, silent but true, contrasting with Hermione's loud, body wracking sobs.

For a good five minutes, they just sat there and cried, Hermione eventually turning her body so Fleur was holding her sideways with the brunette's face against her collarbone, dampening her skin.

Finally, _finally_, the tears stopped. Hermione's anguish quieted and Fleur sighed deeply as all went quiet. The rocking motion slowed and then stopped, and finally, they just sat there in each other's arms, each sniffling every now and then.

"I'm sorry," Hermione mumbled after a while as they just stared out over the sparkling lake, the water willow providing adequate shade from the yellow white sun above them.

Hermione was thankful for this, because she was sweating badly after their run. Her heart was still trying to calm down, from more than just emotional stress and her legs ached painfully. Her skin was hot enough against Fleur's, and the sun definitely wouldn't help matters.

"Don't be," Fleur rasped, resting her chin on the top of Hermione's head as the brunette sat up slowly.

"But I should be...I don't even know why you're here with me...Why did you chase me? I thought you hated me...Like you should..." Hermione murmured, shifting around in Fleur's hold.

The brunette felt the blonde's arms twitch as if she were afraid that Hermione had suddenly changed her mind about allowing herself to be held, but that was not the case. She simply turned and let her chocolate eyes rest on Fleur's cerulean, facing her completely, yet still in the older girl's lap.

"Hate you?" Fleur's eyes widened and then she began to laugh a disbelieving laugh, shaking her head as Hermione frowned.

She'd never taken kindly to being laughed at and Fleur was no exception.

Then again, she thought, I really have no right to be upset with her right now.

"Hermione, you just don't get it, do you? This is the one thing it seems you'll never understand or apparently, accept," Fleur added a bit bitterly, her laugh dying easily, the hollow noise making Hermione's ears cringe.

"What are you...What are you talking about?"

Fleur didn't respond for a long time and Hermione took the silence stoically, just watching Fleur watch the world. Hermione wondered and wondered over the expression on the blonde's beautiful face, the serene resignation, the contrasting determination in those strong, soft features as those sapphire orbs regarded the sparkling lake before them, unreadable, even though they were like an open book.

It drove Hermione crazy, but it made her chest billow out with admiration and adoration of the young woman holding her so close. Fleur was so complex, so intense and just so...So _much_. She was always so much to handle and it always made Hermione shy away, as if Fleur was the one problem she couldn't figure out, and things that outdid Hermione's intelligence always scared her.

_But she's not a problem, is she?_ Hermione thought.

No, Fleur couldn't be a problem. Problems were things you avoided, tried to stay away from, or at least fix. Fleur wasn't broken, not by any means. The only way Fleur could ever possibly be broken, or rather, the only person who could ever possibly break the unbreakable woman was Hermione herself, the brunette was slowly coming to realize.

If Fleur was something so terrifying, why did Hermione long for the woman so much when she was gone, or angry with the brunette? Why did she ache to be held closer, to make sure Fleur didn't change her mind and realize that no, Hermione really wasn't worth it?

Hermione's musings were cut off when Fleur finally spoke.

"I could say something really cliché here, ma belle, but I'd rather not. I love you, and you know I do. You're not stupid, no, never. You're just oblivious. You're worried that I hate you, believe I should hate you, but I know you know that it could never be that way. So, it leaves me wondering," Fleur paused as she turned towards Hermione and lifted a hand to cup her cheek gently.

"Why should I hate you?" the blond murmured, refusing even for a second to break her gaze from Hermione's.

Hermione blushed under Fleur's intense stare, ducking her head slightly, but Fleur wouldn't let her. She ducked her head too and the younger girl bit her lip, still pulled close to Fleur's warmer than warm body, still enjoying the feel of it, despite the burn of the sun above.

"T-that's...You should hate me because of everything I've done to you, what you've had to go through for me. I hurt you emotionally and physically. I avoided you for weeks after we...After we um...You know...And then I insulted you and was so insensitive to your feelings and then you burned yourself over me, and you had to save me from that stupid lake and that perverted merman and you got bitten by the Grindylows and I know these marks and that scar on your bicep are driving you crazy and, and, and..."

Hermione cut herself off, realizing she was ranting now. She closed her mouth and trembled slightly, feeling more tears spilling out of her eyes, eyes that were still locked on Fleur's who listened intently.

"Ma belle, have you noticed a few things all those things I've gone through have in common?" Fleur said after a moment, tilting her head slightly as Hermione continued to squirm beneath that powerful gaze.

"I willingly did all of it and what's more, I did it _for_ you," Fleur smiled softly, swiping the hot tears pouring down Hermione's cheeks away as she leaned back against the trunk of the tree.

Hermione shook her head, biting her lip and Fleur felt the corners of her lips quirk slightly.

"That's exactly it. You've been so selfless and I've just...I've done nothing but hurt you. I never said thank you, just did the exact opposite. I _hit_ you, Fleur after you saved me...How can you not hate me?" Hermione protested, turning completely in the blonde's lap to look at her completely.

The younger girl could feel her pain constricting her chest. Now that she took a step back to really see everything that had happened, she realized that more often than not, she was in the wrong. She'd been letting her insecurities overwhelm her, and couldn't deny that she'd been selfish a lot.

Fleur rolled her eyes and Hermione huffed in annoyance, which only made the blond smirk her infuriating smirk.

"Ma belle, love isn't so simple. You could have injured me yourself, and I'd still love you more than anything. Hate isn't an option when it comes to you, Veela bond be damned. It wouldn't be love if it were an option," Fleur smiled winsomely and Hermione just shook her head, eyes watery.

"Y-you can't just...How can you j-just shrug it all off? Fleur, I haven't even said I love you back and you act as if none of it even matters," Hermione just couldn't comprehend it.

At the reminder that Hermione had yet to return her feelings, at least verbally, Fleur did stiffen up slightly before she sighed softly. They were quiet for a long time, and Hermione feared she had actually convinced Fleur that she was right, which made her feel like a great big stupid git.

After a long silent moment, Fleur spoke. Her words made Hermione's heart beat faster and her stomach flutter with butterflies.

"I love you, Hermione. You could ask me why the grass is green, and I'd say I love you. You could ask me why the sky is blue, and I'd tell you I love you. You could ask me why we need oxygen, and I'd say I don't, all I need is you. My love for you is the only answer I have to give you. I could sit here and say that I've forgiven you, but the fact is, I haven't. But I love you, so I don't care. I could sit here and claim none of it matters, the way you've hurt me, but it does. Then again, it really doesn't, because guess what?"

Fleur paused as she turned back to Hermione, her expression unreadable as she regarded her younger brunette lover with so much emotion and passion that it took the girl's breath away.

"I love you. And if you don't love me back, that doesn't matter either. Really, all that matters is that I love you. It wouldn't be love if that wasn't the truth," Fleur finished, pushing a stray stand of hair back behind Hermione's ear.

The brunette found it was hard to swallow then, as her eyes overflowed again. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Fleur's neck, shaking hard as the blond returned the embrace without hesitation.

The overwhelming waves of affection that poured from Hermione's heart encouraged the silence of her tongue and the movements of her body. She felt Fleur's thrall pulsing in her veins as she hugged the woman closer, crying quietly into the Veela's shoulder, inhaling that intoxicating scent, like fresh rain, like fresh air, something so exotic but so Fleur.

Hermione let her forehead rest against the heated skin of Fleur's shoulder as her tears finally stopped.

"I'm trying so hard right now..." Hermione said slowly, voice barely above a whisper as she kept her face in the crook of Fleur's neck, feeling those strong, slender arms wrapped tightly around her midriff.

"I've never been thrown off balance so hard, never had to try and understand what's plainly not understandable...Nothing makes sense...Whatever this is, it's something I haven't ever experienced before and it drives me crazy..."

Hermione felt Fleur's chin resting on her shoulder and felt their hearts rebounding off of each other. It only made her heart beat harder.

"I don't know why I'm so freaked out all the time, every time you get near me. I freak out when you're away, too, and I just...It's so _frustrating _to want you to come close to me, and to want you to go away at the same time...It feels like there's no happy medium anywhere..."

Fleur listened closely; she _always_ did when Hermione spoke. She hung on every breathy word.

"Everything about you makes no sense at all. I've never met someone I couldn't unravel, until I met you. You drive me up the wall, you infuriate me, you make me feel so amazing, so alive...Everything about you is a contrast to something else about you, and I can't stand when things don't make sense..."

Hermione inhaled deeply, squeezing Fleur's neck tightly and felt the responding squeeze around her midriff. It gave her enough courage to finish what she was desperately trying to convey to the young woman before her.

"But I think I've grown tired of things making perfect sense. It's so boring and so _yesterday_. I'm never happy when I've figured things out, only ready to move on and figure something else out. But it seems like you've always got something else about you that I can learn, or understand. It's never ending. You're frustrating me, but you make me happy, too..."

Fleur's breathing was calm, deep, relaxing and Hermione even smiled softly.

"I see everything you're willing to go through for me, all the battle scars, the fact that you've even here with me now, after how I've treated you, and I don't get it, I don't get that contrast. You're the one thing I want to understand more than anything, but you're the one thing that doesn't make sense...You're the one thing I've never experienced before..."

Hermione lifted her head then; feeling like her next words could only be said directly to Fleur, with their eyes on each others.

"I love you, Fleur. There's only one answer, and it's the one that doesn't make sense. But that's just how it is with you, isn't it? It's...It's exactly what I need, what I want...Do you even understand what I'm saying anymore? I know I'm not making sense, saying you don't make sense and..."

Fleur's lips covered Hermione's, silencing the inevitable babble spree she was going to go on. Hermione's eyes widened, before sliding closed. She didn't resist, didn't hesitate. She couldn't. She just let her lips morph against Fleur's soft, _soft_ heart shaped ones, whimpering as she melted against the older girl.

The kiss was warm and sweet as Fleur cupped the back of Hermione's head, pulling her closer. They broke apart after a long, perfect moment, and to Hermione, it was just too soon.

"Ma belle," Fleur whispered against her lover's lips, pressing their foreheads together.

It seemed as if she had more to say, but the blond just fell silent as they sat together, both with giddy grins on their faces.

They stayed that way for a while, just basking in each other's presence.

Hermione broke the silence when she felt Fleur's thrall begin to probe a little too happily at her most intimate place. The peculiar magical entity had practically been purring with joy through the younger girl's veins when they kissed and now it was getting just a bit touchy, not to mention Hermione was still plopped comfortably in the other girl's lap.

"Was that technically our first fight as a couple?" she muttered as Fleur gently fingered the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck, making her shiver.

"Technically, yes. We got over it, though," Fleur smiled back, eyes parting slightly to glance at the younger girl.

"So...What next? There's sure to be hell over this, you know that, right?" Hermione said a bit nervously as they pulled back, still sitting in each other's arms.

"It's been hell for the past couple of months, if you hadn't noticed," Fleur shrugged. "Karkaroff, the bastard is raising most of that hell, too. He's trying to get me disqualified from the tournament."

"Yeah, he was practically purple with rage when Maxime refused to allow the Minister to let Krum, who apparently saved you, I must thank him for that, win the second task."

"Yes, the Shark Boy," Fleur let herself have a wry grin. "Big goofball. I must repay that debt as soon as possible. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are rivals, you see. Anyways, I really don't care about all the gossip. The tournament, I can handle," Fleur shrugged and Hermione frowned slightly, twiddling her thumbs.

Fleur noticed and paused for a moment.

"Does it bother you, ma belle?" she asked softly.

"Does what bother me?" Hermione tried to play dumb, but it wasn't happening.

"The gossip."

"I...Kind of...? I've never been good with people talking about me..." Hermione admitted and Fleur smiled slightly, leaning into kiss the girl's cheek, which, of course, made the brunette turn crimson.

"Don't worry about it, ma belle. They'll talk and talk and talk, but eventually, they'll get over it. If you're worried about physical harm...Don't be. You've pretty much just been give the protection of the entire Veela coven at this point. Besides, I've seen how your friends are. I find it hard to believe they'd abandon you, especially that redhead girl, what's her name, Ginny?" Fleur attempted to reassure her girlfriend.

"I'm pretty sure you're off about your coven, love. They hate me, seeing as how you refuse to, which I'm ever grateful for," Hermione argued and Fleur rolled her eyes.

Hermione had not missed the death glares from the Veela at all. If she wasn't trying to ignore the whispers from the other student's, she was avoiding the infuriated coven by any means possible. The Veela always traveled in a freaking pack, too, only making them scarier.

"They love you to death, think you're cute when you stutter, positively squeal every time you blush. Trust me; they're over it as soon as they see us together, ma belle. Veela are just protective creatures. I'm sure you could read up about it in that book Dumbledore gave you," Fleur insisted.

"I almost forgot about that, with all this going on...I really hope that book is helpful. I need all the help I can get right now," Hermione sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, flinching and blushing slightly when Fleur leaned into softly kiss her mouth.

No matter how many times she kissed Fleur, it remained amazing. Her lips on those velvety soft lips was the best feeling in the world to Hermione and she quickly reciprocated, even shy and clueless as she felt.

They broke apart too soon for Hermione's tastes.

"You've got me and you know it, ma belle. Everything'll work out alright, I promise. Although, I think our exit really won't help the gossip at all," Fleur said thoughtfully and Hermione bit her lip.

"I'm sorry about making you chase me like that. It's just...That was Mrs. Weasly, Ron's mom...She's like a second mother to me and oh, gods, I can't stand the thought of her so upset with me..." Hermione trailed off as Fleur scowled deeply.

"What?"

"She called me a salope," Fleur grumbled and Hermione easily translated 'salope' to 'slut'.

"Oh, that's just because she believes Rita's rubbish about Harry and Ron being in love with me. I know how your Veela instincts take insults, but please, don't be angry with Mrs. Weasly. She's just very protective."

"So...It's not true, then?" Fleur inquired slowly, avoiding Hermione's eyes.

"What? Harry and Ron? Gods, no! They're like brothers to me! I can't believe you actually thought..." Hermione shook her head and laughed. "Never, Fleur. Not in a million years."

"Oui, well..." Fleur shifted, actually pinkening slightly at her jealousy which Hermione thought was just too cute, "Veela are very possessive creatures, as well as sensitive..."

Hermione grinned before leaning into kiss Fleur's cheek softly, making Fleur smirk her usual smirk. The brunette turned then, leaning her back against Fleur's chest. The older girl wrapped her arms around Hermione and held her close, resting her chin on the top of the younger girl's head.

They stayed this way until sunset, which was really only about an hour, before Hermione made a half panicked remark about this being the first time she'd ever skipped class, and then they both agreed it was probably time to head back.

They walked hand in hand all the way to the castle and Fleur walked Hermione to her room, and they were both so caught up in each other that they didn't even notice all the whispering and pointing.

"Good night, ma belle," Fleur murmured in Hermione's ear before softly brushing her lips against its sensitive shell and turning Hermione twenty shades of red.

With that, Fleur turned on her heel and began floating down the hallway, putting an extra swing in her hips just for Hermione, which the brunette appreciated greatly, eyes glued to that perfect ass and those long, legs, those tight thighs...

"Your eyes are going to fall out, ma belle!" Fleur called over her shoulder, not even having to look to know that blush swathing over Hermione cheeks and ears. The brunette was ever thankful that the hall was empty as everyone was at dinner.

Hermione quickly muttered the password to the fat lady who was curiously quiet throughout all of this but swung open easily for the young Gryffindor.

Hermione, yawning, trotted through the common room and up the stairs, towards her dorm, mind going straight to that book: _Le Guide des Rencontres Vélane_.

She pushed open her door and after quickly changing into pajamas, not even really hungry for anything but knowledge, she snatched up the book and fell into her bed, eagerly flipping the cover open to the first page.

_There's only two things one needs to know when it comes to Veela: Love and sex, particularly the love laden, back scratching, shoulder biting, bucking and moaning, pillow squeezing, I-fucking-hate-you, desperate, painful, ecstasy filled, godly, I-love-you-so-much, sex._There was a pause.

_Well_, Hermione thought, swallowing hard. _This should be an interesting read..._


	11. Chapter 11

_**This is where the story gets infinitely more sexual. If that's not your thing, clear out now. I see Veela as very sexual beings. Personal opinion. **_

_Hermione's heart was pounding as Fleur's tongue played against her own._

This is my first kiss_, she thought. _I'm really, finally having my first kiss...With a girl...Oh, gods...__

Hermione moaned softly as Fleur's fingers played against her jaw line and the tall blond pushed closer. The brunette's heart hammered rapidly as she was backed against the balcony and Fleur's mouth moved so lasciviously, so sweetly.

The brunette couldn't breathe_; her lungs were too full with Fleur's scent, with her thrall, with her very presence. She was so _close _and so _warm_, so soft..._

_Hermione's lower back came into contact with the freezing metal railing as her dress was open in the back, the cloth circling around the elegant slope of her spine to meet once more round her neck and shoulders. The brunette jumped and their lips broke._

Hermione was startled back to reality and her eyes snapped open as she pressed her hands to Fleur's shoulders, feeling dizzy. A wave of vertigo made her knees begin to wobble as the blonde's thrall washed her mind of its senses. 

_"I-I...F-Fleur...Wait a m-moment...I..."_

Hermione's eyes were glazed, she could barely think. Her head was swimming as Fleur did not slow or hesitate, just purred softly in the back of her throat and pressed her mouth to the younger girl's neck.

Hermione's eyes fluttered shut and she whimpered. She hadn't thought it could feel that good just to have her neck kissed, but Fleur was pampering the skin there with her warm, moist lips and Hermione positively swooned_._

Fleur's arm went around Hermione's back and her right hand came up to the hollow of the shorter girl's collarbone, electric fingertips tingling their way across the cool, tanned skin, stroking it reverently. 

"_F-Fleur..."_

The Veela's thrall was pulsing, throbbing inside Hermione. It rocked and swayed and enticed so much that the brunette wondered if she was still breathing as her hands grasped at the material of Fleur's dress.

As for Fleur, well she wasn't thinking clearly at all. She was in complete mating mode, her instincts having taken over. Her hands moved of their own accord and vaguely, in the back of her mind, she was aware of the fact that she should probably stop, or at least slow down.

This was Hermione's first kiss and Fleur was practically molesting her at this point. But the blond couldn't help it; she had waited so long to touch Hermione, to even speak with her mate and she couldn't stand to stop.

_She just wanted to be close, closer...She just wanted to be able to love Hermione and love her right...Love her well...To please..._

It will be nearly uncontrollable_, her mother had said. _Your love and your want will be conveyed through bodily desire. My darling, love her right and well, when the _time_ is right and well...__

Fleur disagreed only barely with her mother. Nearly wasn't the appropriate adjective for this particular wisdom, no. It _is_ uncontrollable_, Fleur thought, nipping at that mouth watering skin, even lapping gently at it._

Her stomach tightened when Hermione let out another delicious moan.

I'm dying_, Hermione thought. _I'm dying...No, I'm already dead...I'm in heaven...__

The brunette's head lolled back. She couldn't protest any longer as Fleur's fingers slipped downward and began to play along the expanse of her chest, pressing into the tender skin and electrifying the younger girl's body. 

_This was the point of no return, when Fleur's thigh slipped between Hermione's and pushed against a moist, receptive heat and Hermione's body _arched _so hard and so high..._

"Ms. Granger! Please pay attention! Goodness, this really isn't like you, Hermione..."

Hermione was abruptly ripped from her reminiscing of her first time when Professor Mcgonagall's voice cut into her reverie, replacing the sound of Fleur's hungry groan with her sharp reprimand.

"S-sorry, Professor!" Hermione stuttered, blushing brightly when her classmates snickered.

It wasn't often the class brain got in trouble but when she did, the trouble makers (read: Slytherins) took great pleasure in it.

It had been around a week since she and Fleur had made up beneath the water willow, and these kinds of thoughts had only been getting more and more pronounced, more frequent with the passing time.

It seemed that being saturated in that playful entity, Fleur's thrall, for extended periods of peaceful, affectionate time as opposed to aggressive, upsetting time kicked Hermione's hormones into over drive...Well, it did that anyway, but now Hermione was actually...Enjoying it.

Or...Sort of. The brunette hadn't decided yet.

It still embarrassed the daylights out of the young girl every time that sort of thought even hinted at crossing her mind and this past week had been worse, in Hermione's humble opinion, than a bad porn movie.

Her thoughts were dirty, bordering on downright pathetically nasty. The worst by far had been the one where Hermione had been sitting by Fleur in potions, suffocating under an increasingly touchy thrall with Fleur's hand on her knee and those heart shaped lips at her ear, giggling softly about...

Hermione couldn't remember what Fleur had been telling her...

The brunette had just been sitting there, bright red with Veela sniggering behind her when the images struck her solidly.

She imagined Fleur suddenly sliding her hand up Hermione's thigh, under her skirt. She imagined Fleur pressing the heel of her palm to the apex of her thighs, imagined the blonde's voice dropping to that raspy, wanting tone, imagined her whispering naughty, _naughty_ things in French as she began to grind her palm into Hermione's panties until the younger girl arched her back and...

_STOP IT!_ Hermione chastised herself, borderline hysterical at that point. _I am not a filthy pervert! What would Fleur think if she knew what was going on in my sick mind? Gods, I'm disgusting..._

The book, _Le Guide des Rencontres Vélane_, while extremely explanatory and actually very reassuring, didn't help the sexual matters at all. It was laden with sexuality, screamed sex, want and lust with love and affection poured on top.

The book was currently buried at the bottom of Hermione's bag, which rested at her feet. Hermione had only managed to read a few chapters, because life was becoming quite hectic. But even one or two excerpts could put the brunette's mind in the gutter in an instant.

_And to think, I never even thought about sex before Fleur came around. I never even...Touched myself...Gods, I'm pathetic...  
_  
Hermione had been kept up all night with a silencing charm on her closed bed curtains simply because of these few sentences that not only explained a lot, but had the brunette rediscovering her neglected sex quite eagerly.

_Veela are extremely emotional, sexual, volatile creatures. To provoke the Veela's emotions is to provoke her libido and vice versa. You simply cannot have one without the other. When it comes to mating, this is quite possibly the most vital point to remember._

Young mates will often experience awful outbursts of emotion, even anger, even despise. They will go at it like rabid dogs. Were it not for the Veela thrall, it is quite possible that physical harm would be prominent in every Veela relationship. 

_To counter act these common, recurring outbursts of anger, hurt and depression, the Veela thrall will change this emotion to pure, unadulterated lust, rendering what would be a violent, heart breaking fight into rough, nail breaking, eye rolling sex._

In the throes of passion, when your lover is bringing you to orgasm after godly orgasm, it's hard to stay upset, right? How can you possibly angry with them when their fingers are buried deep inside your aching core and their lips are on yours, searing you?  
  
_Anyways, it's quite ironic that the Veela's thrall is the cause of the emotional outbursts in the first place..._

Hermione hadn't made it past that. Her thoughts had flitted to Fleur, and her long, slim fingers, those perfectly manicured nails...

So not only did Hermione have to deal with unbridled lust, something of which she had never had to deal with before, she had to deal with the complete and utter _bull_shit of her peers, of the pure stupidity of people.

If it wasn't someone muttering dyke under their breath when she walked by, it was someone muttering how much they'd like to 'get in on that', that being Fleur and Hermione's relationship, to their buddy.

If it wasn't Karkaroff desperately trying to get Fleur disqualified for _being_ a dyke, it was someone crying about the age differences of both the dykes and _damn it_, Hermione was sick of this nonsensical bovine fecal matter.

The gossip just didn't even affect her anymore. It just pissed her off.

The bell tolled then, breaking Hermione out of her dirty thoughts, thankfully. The brunette scurried past McGonagall quickly, ducking her head, ashamed. She was usually such an attentive student but her mind was all over the place and her beloved Professor didn't like it one bit.

Hermione had barely cleared the doorframe, still haphazardly shrugging her pack higher on her shoulder when the sound of musical French laughter assaulted her senses.

"Regardez, elle est là! Elle est si mignonne!"

_Crap_, Hermione thought. _She's brought all of her friends. Of course._

The Veela coven pranced down the hallway, parting the students like the Red Sea. They were all bouncing and giggling, rushing towards their lovely, sweet little Hermione, as they had deemed her.

For some reason, the Veela coven thought Hermione was the most adorable thing on the planet and would never let the brunette forget it.

Before Hermione could make a mad run for it, she was engulfed.

"Zo cute! Aw, look at 'er blush!"

Hermione was swamped in hugs and kisses. Her burning cheeks were peppered with little greeting pecks as multiple, beautiful young Veela wrapped her in their arms and passed her around, giggling and pinching her cheeks lightly.

A customary greeting since Fleur and Hermione had made up and all had been forgiven at the speed of light, one that had the young girl wishing she could shrivel up and melt into the floor.

But alas, the Veela must have their fun first. They hugged a stiff Hermione tightly, simpering in French at the brunette's ridiculous cuteness. The more embarrassed Hermione became, the cuter she became.

It was sickening to the mortified brunette.

The snickers and pointing from the other student's made Hermione's stomach churn.

That is, until her knight in skin tight jeans broke through the pack and shooed them all off.

Then, nothing else mattered.

Fleur's smile was bright as she floated towards her mate, walking with her customary lush swagger and smirk that had Hermione melting. Her sapphire eyes softened immensely and her grin only widened at the sight of her cherry red mate, squirming uncomfortably as the Veela continued to coo.

"Quit bothering 'er, you all. Shoo, shoo. You 'ave turned my 'ermione red. Soon, she'll be stuck that way. Yes, Violette, she's very cute that shade of red...Buzzards, zee lot of you. Go on, shoo," Fleur waved her hands at her coven as if they were birds to be rid of, her accent more prominent in the presence of her French comrades.

Technically, they were birds, but that was beside the point. They backed away, grumbling at Fleur and stood off to the side, waiting patiently for the two.

Fleur paused as she finally stood in front of her mate, oblivious to the pointing and whispering (most of which came from her coven).

"Bonjor, ma belle," Fleur smiled softly, and Hermione could only smile back when a gentle hand came up to her cheek and light fingertips danced over her skin before the blond leaned in and they kissed warmly.

The younger girl had most certainly not forgotten about their peers, and could definitely still hear the whispering. However, she had no intentions of denying her lover a kiss. No, Fleur mattered more at that moment.

Not to mention, the blonde's thrall happily wafted over Hermione and hugged her with as much delight as its owner.

The kiss stayed close mouthed but Hermione found herself wishing for something more passionate, more intense. Fleur's lips were so soft...

"Hello, Fleur," Hermione grinned as they broke apart and the Veela coven positively _died_.

"I cannot wait to find my mate!" One sighed and the others heartily agreed in French as they floated after the couple, who rolled their eyes and made their way towards Potions.

"And you two still 'ave not told us about 'our love making! Pas juste!" One Veela cried and once again, the agreements were full hearted.

"Pah! Mind ton propre!" Fleur cried back, glancing over her shoulder at her coven that pouted and scowled as Hermione tried to convince the blood in her face that it really was needed in other parts of her body as well.

_Like where? Your crotch_? Hermione thought sardonically, before contemplating slamming her head into the wall for even going there, even with herself.

One of the Veela customs Hermione had learned about was that Veela covens were extremely close, and often shared very private details with each other, especially sex. It wasn't a matter of boasting even if there was a measure of pride to the subject as there always is with Veela, just a matter of sharing.

Needless to say, Hermione was not okay with that. She had it bad enough with everyone trying to know her business. She had no intentions of letting the Veela in on her private life. They were pushy enough as it was.

"Mais Fleur-"

"Non! Forget eet! You know 'ow 'ermione feels about zis! 'Ou all make 'er uncomfortable enough as eet eez!" Fleur said haughtily, glaring at her coven over her shoulder.

Their whining ensued and despite herself, Hermione grinned. The coven was ridiculous.

The grin abruptly disappeared when she realized how sexy Fleur sounded when her accent was so prominent, so lilting and tinted with anger.

_I need some self control_, Hermione thought, shaking her head before Fleur turned back around and gave her hand a little squeeze, only exciting the fluttering butterflies in the brunette's belly in more ways than one.

"Je suis désolé, 'ermione. Zey drive me up zee wall, _much as I love zem_!" Fleur added quickly when her coven quickly protested, shouting in French.

"Goodness, look at me. I sound like I'm back at 'ome. My accent is going wild," Fleur laughed and Hermione shrugged, letting her fingertips rest between the older girl's knuckles.

"I actually kind of like your accent," Hermione replied easily as they continued to walk, Fleur smirking knowingly as her coven grumbled and sniggered behind them.

"Oui, well...I apologize for my pack. They are unruly at best," Fleur's smirk widened and Hermione giggled, not having to understand French to know what Fleur's coven was babbling indignantly behind them couldn't be pleasant.

"Oh, look. It seems the Veela are all fighting over who gets Delacour's sloppy seconds..."

Hermione's eyes closed for a bit longer than a standard blink and as the oily laughter of the Slytherins reached her ears, she felt her fingers twitch in Fleur's. She _almost_ pulled her hand from her mate's and she felt the blonde's reluctant but substantial muscle relaxation, giving Hermione the ability to pull away if she so wished.

However, she did not. This was only solidified when Fleur's thrall seemed to literally bristle and Hermione's stomach boiled with anger as it did.

They had reached the dungeons. If the slimy walls and the even slimier Slytherins weren't enough indication, the Veela's complaining was. They positively hated it down there, where it was drafty and dark and generally gloomy as hell.

"Am I the only one who hears rats squeaking down here? They sound like the nasty, grimy ones that always make too much noise and are completely unwelcome anywhere, except with their own nasty ratty friends," Hermione muttered and Fleur made a slight coughing, choking noise as they reached the emerald clad Slytherins that scowled deeply at the brunette's words.

The Veela snickered as Fleur bit back her laughter.

"Mon dieu, I 'ate rats. Someone should 'ave them exterminated," Fleur's eyes flashed, despite her amusement and pride in Hermione's growing ability to stand up for herself. Fleur had always been protective of her loved ones and would have been that way, Veela or not.

The Veela thing certainly helped the protectiveness along, though.

Ever since all the talk had started, Hermione had begun to grow a backbone. The young brunette had been showing increasing signs of annoyance over fear when people tried to bully her, something that pleased all of her friends greatly.

Of course, with a vicious, protective thrall boiling in her mate's system, it was hard not to be angry with Draco and his crew.

Malfoy had been the one to make his crude remarks and Hermione was only happy to shut the bastard down. The brunette was sickened at the fact that Lucius had managed to buy the boy into Seventh Year Potions because Draco didn't want to take Herbology anymore.

"Watch your mouth, dyke!" Draco's steel-grey eyes flashed, but it was much less intimidating than Fleur's sapphire orbs lighting up like lightning.

Fleur shifted her body in front of Hermione's. She had no intentions of backing down from a challenge; that just wasn't who she was. But she had heard the rumors about the Slytherins being slow with their brains but quick with their brawn, which meant they drew their wands pretty quickly.

Fleur would be damned if it came to that and someone's stray curse struck her mate. No way.

Besides...The entire coven seemed to shift as one when the insult was thrown. To insult Hermione was to insult Fleur and to insult Fleur was to insult the coven...Or hell, they would cut out the middle man for Hermione. Insulting Hermione was to insult the coven, and everyone knows how Veela take insults...

That is to say, not very well at all.

"What's the matter, Malfoy? Jealous, perhaps? 'As Parkinson's pug face lost its glory? Mon dieu! Say it isn't zo! Are you frustrated zat even girls get more pussy than you, hmm?"

And Hermione's ears were suddenly on fire.

_She said...I can't believe she just said...That word...Ugh..._

Malfoy went twenty shades of red as ten similar smirks broke out along the Veela's faces.

Fleur could be downright nasty when it came down to defending her loved ones. She was sneering in the faces of all the Slytherins who had gone quiet and had dark, stormy looks on their smug faces.

"You _wish_-"

"And it comes true, non? Obviously, _your _wishing only works in your dreams, Malfoy. Who's standing all alone, _râler_? Hmm?"

Fleur didn't give him an inch. If he wanted to open his mouth and talk shit he better be able to walk that shit.

Fleur Delacour had never allowed herself to be bullied. _No_ Delacour did. She was not about to be the first, especially with her mate's dignity on the line. No, she was tired of people talking about her lover, tired of watching Hermione, so stressed all the time.

No, Fleur was done with that. If people had beef, she was going to settle it right then and there. She was a vegetarian, anyway. She wouldn't take it anymore.

She wondered, though, why Hermione was so red and mouthing a word that Fleur thought started with a p, looking so scandalized...

Fleur's arms were folded and her left hip was cocked ever so slightly, almost unnoticeably. Her lips were drawn into a thin, mocking sneer and her eyes were blue frost, sapphire steel. Her posture positively screamed the middle finger without actually flipping it. The coven's posture reflected it.

Hermione looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"You filthy half breed! I'll teach you to talk down to someone who is so obviously above you!" Malfoy roared indignantly as the Slytherins glared back at the coven.

Well, the girls glared. The boys just huffed and looked anywhere but at the scowling Veela.

Draco's hand had just barely brushed the material of his robe pocket when Fleur's forearm slammed into his collarbone. He crashed back into the stone wall, yelping a high pitched yelp that boys who have hit puberty should not be able to reach.

"Try me," Fleur hissed, cerulean eyes flashing a dangerous ruby red as she dug her arm into Malfoy's neck, keeping him pinned.

He whimpered as the Veela coven lurched slightly, two of the Veela stepping warily in front of Hermione as the Slytherins rapidly drew their wands.

Hermione? She merely gawked as she watched the back of Fleur's neck prick with a feathery blue down, hinting at an impending transformation.

"That," came the greasiest voice yet, "will be quite enough, Ms. Delacour..."

Everyone whirled as Professor Snape approached, his voice soft but unmistakably angry. The Potions master's eyes narrowed when Fleur didn't immediately move, just kept her jaw locked and her eyes boring into Malfoy's terrified ones.

"Delacour."

Fleur stepped back abruptly, snorting as her thrall gave the boy a vicious, artificial slap on the face, making his knees wobble and his eyes go wonky.

"That will be fifty points from Gryffindor and I'll be speaking to Madame Maxime over this mishap...Ms. Delacour, you can spend your afternoon in detention..." Snape sneered as the Slytherins snickered triumphantly.

Hermione felt the protest welling in her throat; she'd done nothing to deserve that punishment!

But Fleur just scoffed.

"Good luck wiz zat," she rolled her eyes, returning Snape's sneer defiantly, looking every bit the reputation claimed by the Delacour's.

The Professor paused for barely a moment before his voice softened even further, only sounding oily and threatening. He seemed to change what he was going to say just as he said it.

"To class, all of you. Veela, _control your thralls_," Snape hissed. "This is a potions class, not a build-a-tent class."

Several boys discreetly moved their books in front of themselves and Hermione felt a bit nauseous.

The Slytherins moved inside first and Fleur made sure to place herself between them and Hermione.

On their way inside, Hermione whispered in Fleur's ear, standing on tip toes to do so.

"Fleur, what was that? You didn't have to hit him..." she breathed and Fleur shuddered slightly, making Hermione's brow furrow.

It was then that she felt Fleur's thrall slip around her shoulders and against her skin, before it saturated her pores and made the brunette go weak in the knees.

"I apologize, ma belle...I cannot stand bullies..._Sloppy seconds_...'Ow dare 'e...You are _my_ mate...Veela share a lot but we don't share _zat_...'ell, I can't even control my accent..."

Fleur muttered under her breath as Hermione began to mentally berate the magical entity curiously probing at her most intimate place.

_Stop that_, she thought and surprisingly, Fleur's thrall eased off a bit.

Still, it gave a playful slide over Hermione's sex before receding from that particular area.

Desperately trying and failing to ignore that, Hermione wildly tried to get her hormones under control. The book was right on target; Fleur's emotions were playing havoc with the young brunette.

Hermione felt an unreasonable wave of angry possessiveness pour through her chest as they sat down, ignoring the glaring Slytherins. Then she felt pure wanting and lust. It was mind numbing.

"F-Fleur, please...Please, relax...You're...You're making me..." Hermione was practically panting.

Enduring Fleur's thrall usually was bad enough, but the emotional young Veela was seriously wound up at this point. Draco had hit Fleur's button hard and it was driving them both up the wall.

Hermione tried to keep her mind out of the gutter, but couldn't. She put her head in her hand as Fleur made a little strangled noise, her nostrils flaring.

_Damn!_ The blonde thought in frustration she realized what was happening. She reigned in her thrall as best as she could, but the damage was done. Hermione's scent soaked the air and called to Fleur's most primal instincts.

"Today, class, we will be creating a particularly tricky potion..."

Hermione was horribly aware of how good Fleur smelled...

"It has been under heavy debate among the Ministry on whether or not it is appropriate to teach you all about this..."

Hermione could feel the warmth radiating from Fleur's body...So nice...

"Particularly fourteen year olds...But Dumbledore insisted...The potion is an Aphrodisiac potion and will-"

BANG.

Hermione's forehead hit the table with a resounding thwack, illustrating just how devastating that information really was.

The Veela giggling really didn't help.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Sorry for the long wait. Life is life, you know? This has been half finished in my documents for a while. And I'm sorry to say, it's kind of a filler. **_

* * *

The fire crackled pleasantly, its heat warming the entire common room with its red-orange glow. Nothing could ever be more comfortable to Hermione than sitting in front of the blaze on the plush couches, wrapped in Fleur's arms with her friends laughing around her.

It was much more comfortable than Potions earlier that day, that was for sure. After a few hours of being apart, as Hermione and Fleur had both agreed was necessary, they'd calmed down and were feeling content over mind numbing lust.

It was a nice change for Fleur's thrall to gently hold Hermione than to molest her. Honestly, the brunette was getting drowsy with so much warmth and happiness around her. She felt so peaceful with Fleur's arms around her waist and her chin on her shoulder.

"So Annabella really tried to get in Celia's pants?" Ginny grinned as she leaned forward, eyes sparkling as she sat on the couch opposite Fleur and Hermione.

"Oui, she did. Celia's backhand convinced my cousin not to try it again," Fleur nodded, running her fingers through Hermione's silky chocolate locks, gently scraping her nails along the younger girl's scalp.

Hermione was enjoying this greatly, her eyes drooping slightly with pleasure.

"S'not as bad as what Ginny did to that one bloke, though. Remember Casper, Ron?" Harry smiled slightly from the floor. He was leaned against the couch Ginny and Ron occupied.

"Oh, right. I almost forgot about him. Blimey, Gin about broke his nose when he tried to touch her bum. What a git!" Ron laughed and Ginny shrugged.

"And right on her, too," Ron added, clearing his throat as his brotherly side came out.

"He thought he was being smooth," Ginny smirked.

"Bet he thought your right straight to the jaw was a bit smoother," Hermione put in, resting back against Fleur's soft chest.

Ginny nodded and they both giggled at each other as the fire popped merrily, the flames dancing heartily in the fireplace.

Hermione hadn't felt this serene in a long time. She'd been so snappy with her friends for so long that they'd been avoiding her for a while, but now everything was getting better. It seemed if she was at war with Fleur, then Hermione was at war with the world.

But after things had been relatively fixed, at least with the blond herself, everything had calmed down. Her friends readily accepted Hermione back and waved off the hundreds of apologies and they were all relaxing together, all set for Saturday approaching tomorrow.

"So...How have you two been? You guys haven't exploded on everyone and each other since the second task..." Ron hesitantly said, tact ever lost.

Ginny rolled her eyes and socked her brother in the arm, making him yelp sharply.

"What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing the injured arm as Harry snickered from the floor and the two mates grinned.

"No, Gin, it's alright. We've been pretty good, actually. Just sick of all the talk. Really, it's not that big of a deal...And guys, thanks again for taking this so well..." Hermione said sincerely, shivering when Fleur nuzzled the back of her neck and massaged her scalp, causing the brunette to trail off her inevitable rambling spree over her gratitude to her faithful friends.

When her friends had finally had the relationship between Hermione and Fleur confirmed, they took it amazingly well. Miraculously well, in fact. Ginny had already suspected and upon confirmation had immediately given Hermione a hug and Fleur a wary reluctant look, for the red head still wasn't sure if she could trust the blond.

Hermione was sure if Fleur wasn't a Veela, Ginny would still have beef with the young woman. Ginny was as protective as protective comes and she still felt her friend had been wronged by the blond.

It would take time, that was all. Ginny would get over it. She was already at least being civil towards Fleur, and thankfully Fleur understood the resentment anyway.

Ron had turned purple and muttered something obscure but accepting under his breath before tugging his collar and looking anywhere but at the two lovers. Harry had just hesitated before looking between the two mates, before he hugged them both.

Now, if only they could convince Fred and George to stop requesting photos of the two kissing, things would be great.

"They'll shut up eventually, they always do," Ginny reassured her friend quickly.

"I don't know if they will. Maxime seems to be the only thing keep Fleur in the tournament," Hermione's brow furrowed and Fleur snorted.

"I'd like to see him try to get past Madame Maxime. He'd have better luck getting through a brick wall with no magic," Fleur said, hugging Hermione closer.

The brunette sighed as Fleur's thrall blanketed her warmly and a soft, chaste kiss pressed against her shoulder. Fleur was so affectionate and for some reason, Hermione couldn't bring herself to blush at the moment, even in front of all her friends and the few Gryffindors that remained awake staring at her from around the common room.

"Right, well...You know I'll back you up if it comes down to it, Fleur..." Harry murmured, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at the blond.

Fleur smiled softly; she really did enjoy Harry's company. He was a gentle, kind hearted soul and he didn't have to say much to mean a whole lot.

"Thank you, Harry," Fleur nodded at him, eyes twinkling.

He awkwardly cleared his throat as Fleur's thrall playfully bounced over to him to display its owner's gratitude.

"Um, yeah...Well, I think I'm gonna head to bed, guys...See you lot in the morning..." Harry yawned as he stood, shaking Fleur's thrall off with practiced ease.

"Same here," Ron followed his best friend soon after, stretching as he stood. "G'night. And Gin, keep an eye on that Dean git. He's been eyeing you all night," Ron warned as he trotted after Harry up to the steps to the dormitories.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Goodnight, Wonniekins," she called over her shoulder and grinned widely at his answering snort.

"Well, I think I'm headed to bed, too," Ginny said after a moment of peaceful silence. "It's pretty late. Good thing it's the weekend. G'night, you two. And don't stay up too late snogging. Snape's been in a right pissy mood and he's not done with you yet, Fleur. You'll need all the energy you can get come tomorrow," Ginny added and as Hermione managed to blush over the mention of snogging Fleur, the redhead's eyes locked with Fleur's.

A moment passed, a very brief one between the two. Ginny's expression, however slight, of concern over Fleur meant something. Blue eyes smoldered into bright brown, brighter than Hermione's deep chocolate, more of a mahogany red.

"Merci, Ginny. But I really don't think Snape knows what he's up against here," Fleur smirked and Ginny smirked back.

And right then and there, Ginny forgave Fleur for any past occurrences of misdoings.  
"Right. Give him hell for me, mate. Night!" Ginny waved her hand at them and they responded in kind as the fiery redhead padded off towards her dorm, leaving the two young mates alone in the common room as everyone else had gone off to bed as well.

Hermione was grinning to herself.

_Finally, she's coming around_, the brunette thought; grateful her friend had begun to warm up to her mate.

Speaking of warming up, Hermione felt like the room was steadily getting hotter. Fleur's warmth was divine and the fire blazed on merrily, filling the common room with heat. It made her head feel kind of heavy, and her mind was swimming.

"Ma belle," Fleur mumbled, cuddling closer to the young brunette who blushed and squirmed slightly at all the attention she was getting from her beloved.

Fleur began to preen Hermione's neck, nipping slightly here and there, but mostly just peppering sweet little kisses up and down the warm, tan skin exposed to her soft, heart shaped lips. Hermione giggled and shifted in Fleur's lap.

The brunette paused uncertainly. She could swear something was vibrating gently against her back. Hermione's brow furrowed as she heard a low humming noise emanating from behind her.

"Fleur...Are you...Purring?" Hermione grinned, glancing over her shoulder at her mate.

There was a strangled noise and the pleasant vibrations and hum abruptly cut off.

"...No..."

Hermione bit her lip, torn between amusement and affection for Fleur. The book had said that when a Veela purrs, they are either highly sexually aroused or extremely content. The brunette assumed it was the latter as that was the vibe she was getting.

"Don't stop," Hermione laughed, twisting around in Fleur's lap to stare at the blond with lidded eyes. "I like it. It's nice," Hermione went on as Fleur smirked ever so slightly.

"Ma belle, your eyes shine so brilliantly in firelight," Fleur said randomly, one hand rising to cup Hermione's cheek gently.

The brunette blushed, ducking her head as her heart skipped a beat. She did wonder vaguely if Fleur was trying to change the subject because Hermione had noticed the slight pink tint to the blonde's cheeks. She really didn't think Fleur should be embarrassed over the purring; Hermione liked it. A lot.

"I never liked brown eyes till I met you...I always thought of mud when I thought of brown...But yours are like a deep, milk chocolate and in this light, they glow, ma belle...The embers, like fireflies, dancing in your eyes..."

So poetic, Fleur was. Hermione could find no explanation for Fleur's prosaic speech other than that she was French, and the French were supposed to be so romantic...Fleur was _such_ a charmer...

Regardless, Fleur's words made Hermione positively melt as they sat together, basking in each other. It was one of their rare, peaceful moments and the brunette cherished every second of it.

"Like fireflies..." Hermione mimicked Fleur, letting her supposedly glowing eyes rest on Fleur's own blue ones. "Yours are like stars, Fleur...They don't just glow, they shine and sparkle and gleam, like sapphires...And they _burn_ and they _flash_, like glittering blue stars..."

Hermione had always had to respond to a compliment with a compliment. It's just how she was. And right now, with the heat lowering her inhibitions and Fleur's thrall hugging her so contentedly, she felt she had to say something, and what she said was what she always thought.

_Mm, looks like she's rubbing off on me_, Hermione thought as she realized her words were poetic as well. _But I wish she would just...Rub me..._

Hermione immediately skirted to a mental halt at that particularly lascivious thought.

_Where the hell did that come from? _Hermione mentally berated herself as Fleur's eyes gleamed just like the brunette had said they do.

The Veela purred, undeniably flattered and pleased with Hermione's words. Before the younger girl could dwell too long on it, soft pink, heart shaped lips were pressed to hers, morphing against her mouth.

Hermione's mind went blissfully blank as Fleur's thrall buzzed pleasantly through her nervous system, making their touches, their loving kiss that much better. When the older girl parted Hermione's lips with that godly tongue, the brunette swooned and moaned slightly, feeling inebriating.

Fleur's touch changed then at the appreciative noise. Her thrall twitched and began to slick over Hermione's body and her hands went to the brunette's face, cupping her and pulling her closer, deeper into the kiss.

Hermione reacted on instinct as her body began to hum with pleasure. She wrapped her arms around Fleur's neck and kissed the young woman harder. Her skin felt so sensitive and Fleur was a phenomenal kisser; her tongue painted patterns along the inside of Hermione's mouth.

Okay...They were doing exactly as Ginny had predicted. They were staying up late, snogging.

Hermione couldn't seem to care at that point, however. She just pulled Fleur closer, letting her fingers lace through silky blond hair to return the earlier favor and caress the older girl's warm scalp.

The purr returned and Hermione felt it vibrating against her chest, a deep, contented rumble. The brunette twitched but did not resist when Fleur suddenly pushed them back onto the couch, crawling on top of her younger lover.

_This is amazing_, Hermione thought. She's_ amazing_.

And it was true; Fleur's strong, lithe body pressed down on Hermione's and the brunette could feel her mate's hands resting next to her head, keeping some of her weight off so as not to crush her.

"Mm, Fleur-" Hermione moaned incoherently, her head swimming deep through Fleur's thrall as her body writhed uncontrollably. Her lips never stayed together because the blond always made sure she had them parted with her tongue.

But at Hermione's exclamation, Fleur's hands began to wander as she groaned into the brunette's mouth, driving them both wild.

Hermione couldn't think, not with this thick haze clouding her mind. Her head lolled back as Fleur attached her lips to the younger girl's neck and ran her hands over sensitive ribs.

It was just like their first time. Hermione couldn't think, couldn't breathe. But she could see and she could _taste_, she could smell and she could _hear_, she could _feel_.

She saw Fleur's beautiful face, but only for a moment as it disappeared into Hermione's neck, lips laying hot, wet kisses down the elegant slope. She tasted the sweet skin beneath her own lips as she kissed Fleur's shoulder, mindlessly. She smelled Fleur's intoxicating thrall, her perfume and that uniquely Fleur scent that always came with the blond and always put Hermione into a heated daze of bliss. She could hear Fleur's soft noises, her hungry, hungry noises that made Hermione's hips jerk in the blonde's grip.

And she could most definitely _feel_ Fleur, everywhere, all over her skin; her body was smothered in Fleur, Fleur...

"Fleur!" Hermione's voice was high pitched and startled but she couldn't keep up the effort of speaking as the blonde's hands snaked up her stomach, massaging the tender, sensitive abdomen with deliberate, varying pressure, lightly scraping her nails along the skin.

"'Ermione," Fleur's voice was throaty and husky, rasping with want and need.

Hermione had gone off the deep end, she swore it. Her eyes rolled in their sockets as one of Fleur's hands up and the other went...

Down.

One hand cupped a soft breast and the other slipped into a pair of black cotton shorts and under silky panties.

"Fleur, _Fleur_-"

An overwhelming wave of panic hit Hermione through her lustful daze. Her stomach flip flopped but not in the good way as she felt a palm cupping her slick sex and another palm gripping her tender breast.

_I can't, wait, wait, wait-This is way too fast! What are we doing? No, not like last time, I don't want to feel that way again! I don't want to _break _again!_ Hermione's mind whirled and before she could even think about hesitating, the cry erupted from her throat, desperate and hysterical.

"Fleur, stop! _STOP_, please..._Stop_..."

The effect was instantaneous. Fleur's whole body went taut and she lurched slightly, freezing completely.

Fleur could feel Hermione's heart pounding wildly beneath the breast she held so closely. The brunette trembled, so frightened, Fleur could smell the fear and it made her stomach churn uncomfortably.

"Stop..." Hermione whispered, tears rolling out of her eyes as the waves of emotion washed her senses. Her hands were gripping Fleur's shoulders tightly and her cheek rested against the blonde's. She could feel the warm breath, panting softly onto her neck and she shivered, another tremble rolling through her body.

For a long moment, that was how they stayed, Fleur just holding Hermione in her hands, not daring to move unless Hermione shattered, fragile beneath her fingertips.

The temptation was insane to the Veela. She had Hermione so close, so ready but so _not_ ready, right against her body. Every instinct screamed to either take the brunette, just work her fingers and she could have what she smelled so easily, but then they were also keeping every muscle locked, refusing to harm the brunette they loved so much.

But Fleur understood. She could not move forward, she could not move back. All she could was just...Hold Hermione, hold her close.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her hands slipped out of Hermione's clothes and her arms went around the trembling brunette. With utter care, Fleur turned gently, hugging Hermione to her body until the brunette was sandwiched between the couch and the blond herself.

Hermione's face buried into the crook of Fleur's neck as the trembles began to subside.

Though Fleur's body ached and burned so viciously, so longingly, her fire was soothed every time she felt Hermione shudder. As soon as the blond had heard that terrified cry, her body and soul had been filled with its terror.

Fleur would never do anything to Hermione without permission, would never dream of forcing her into it, even trying to convince the brunette.

No, they didn't need to talk about why Hermione had needed to stop so desperately and so suddenly. They already knew. They didn't really need anything after a while, not really. As Hermione, resting against Fleur's body, wrapped in her warmth, began to doze off; Fleur accepted the fact that she needed only what Hermione needed, as they were mates.

Right then, Hermione didn't need and definitely couldn't handle sex. No, all she really needed in that moment was to be held.

So Fleur held her.


	13. Chapter 13

The sunlight streamed in through the window, turning Fleur's vision blind for a moment as her eyelids fluttered. The fire had gone out save for a few determined, smoldering embers. The common room was relatively warm, at least to Fleur, as she was wrapped in Hermione's arms.

She had slept deeply, peacefully. Her dreams were nothing more than abstract, pleasant concepts that she couldn't quite remember, but knew she enjoyed.

It would have been an excellent way to wake up, especially when Hermione moaned sleepily, so adorably, except for one thing.

_Who the _hell_ is poking me_? Fleur thought irately, blinking rapidly as she grunted and turned slightly, careful not to jostle Hermione.

Her sleep darkened sapphires landed on a nervous looking first year boy that flinched when Fleur glared at him.

"Will you kindly not do that, please?" Fleur grunted at him, voice thick as she tried to wake up further.

The frightened young eleven year old bit his bottom lip and Fleur sighed, softening her gaze as Hermione groaned and stretched against the blond.

The corners of Fleur's lips quirked up as she heard Hermione mumble under her breath about five more minutes before snuggling closer.

The older girl then narrowed her eyes as the boy continued to stand there and fidget.

"_Yes_?"

He blanched and she managed not to roll her eyes with effort.

"I-I...U-uh...Um...P-Professor Dumbledore needs to see you and y-your...Your um...G-g-girlfriend...In his office..."

_And let's hear a round of applause, he actually got it out_, Fleur smirked mentally but nodded at him. She had seen older boys fail entirely too even speak one word, so she really couldn't blame the blushing, stuttering kid.

_But what in the world does he want with us so early in the morning_? Fleur thought.

"Thank you," Fleur said softly, glancing back down at Hermione who seemed to be waking slowly, her eyelids fluttering.

"You can go now..." she added, eyeing the boy wryly when he stood there and stared in awe at the Veela.

"Oh uh...Okay...Um...Yeah..."

He wandered off, looking punch drunk and Fleur rolled her eyes before turning to a shifting, yawning Hermione.

"G'morning..." the brunette mumbled lazily, smiling slightly as the first thing she saw was Fleur.

_What a wonderful thing to wake up to_, the brunette thought happily as Fleur ran her fingers through Hermione's bed head, gently undoing tangles.

"What did that boy want?" Hermione asked as she stretched her arms above her head and Fleur sat up a bit, leaning onto the arm of the couch.

"We have to go see Dumbledore," Fleur replied, trying not to let her eyes linger on the strip of skin on Hermione's tummy that was exposed when the girl's shirt rode up slightly as her thoughts lingered on last night's ordeal.

"Ugh, _why_?" Hermione whined, flopping back down, good mood instantly dipping at the thought of having to report to anyone for any reason, especially the reason she was expecting.

"I don't know. I wonder when, though," Fleur responded as she stretched her own muscles.

"Why didn't you ask, love?" Hermione inquired as she sat up, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

_I really don't want to go see him first thing in the morning, on a beautiful weekend_, Hermione thought.

"Because the kid was annoying me. My eyes are _above _my neck," Fleur shook her head, grinning slightly when Hermione bit her lip and chuckled.

"I'm sorry, Fleur, I shouldn't laugh."

"No, you shouldn't, considering you stare twice as hard as he does when you think I'm not looking," Fleur said, playfully winking when Hermione turned bright red and began to stutter out something unintelligibly indignant.

She kissed the brunette's cheek and hushed the girl's babbling effortlessly. Hermione only blushed harder, ducking her head slightly.

"I suppose we should go see him right now, and then I think I need a shower. We could go grab something to eat together, after that...If you want to? Maybe take a walk around the lake..."

Fleur spoke hesitantly. What had happened the night before had put her on edge a bit with Hermione. She wasn't sure how the brunette felt about them at this point, and she was essentially asking the girl out on a date...Kind of.

"That sounds like fun," Hermione smiled gently, noting the bit of anxiety in Fleur's cerulean eyes. Their eyes locked for a long moment before Fleur grinned back.

"Alright then. Let's go, before he starts badgering us some more," Fleur said, offering her hand to Hermione who took it and was pulled to her feet by the blond.

They padded toward the Gryffindor exit, ignoring the soft whispers and stares from the people who had come down in the early morning light. They were used to it by now. They pushed the door open and walked out, having no idea what was in store for them.

* * *

"STUPEFY!"

"REDUCTO!"

"INCENDIO!"

"_FINITE INCANTATEM_!"

Fleur shoved Hermione behind herself as soon as they opened the door to Dumbledore's office, clad in their pajama's and sleepy but contented smiles that dropped instantly as flashes of violent light lit up the room.

"What ze _hell_-!" Fleur snarled, yanking Hermione and herself to the floor as several curses went soaring over their heads and then Dumbledore's voice rang out, powerful and infinite, halting the mayhem.

"Oh my god," Hermione muttered, heart pounding in her chest from the near miss.

"That is enough!" Dumbledore cried, and Hermione glanced up, trembling next to Fleur who was grumbling darkly under her breath.

Karkaroff, Snape, Maxime, McGonagall and the Minister stood in a circle around Dumbledore's office with Dumbledore himself behind his desk, eyes flashing.

"I expect better from all of you, especially you McGonagall! You nearly hit the _students_ with that curse. Would you set your favorite on fire? We will not settle these matters like angry children! Minister, do what you must, but I will not have this come to violence and I will not allow my students to be harmed," Dumbledore spoke passionately, his words ringing strongly so that everyone cringed at the unusual outburst of emotion from the normally quiet man.

McGonagall was blushing and looked absolutely furious. She stood by Maxime, obviously embarrassed and chastised but also enraged. She glared daggers at Karkaroff who scowled by a sneering Snape.

The Minister fidgeted nervously.

"I, Albus...That is to s-say...I'm...Um..."

"Will someone please tell us what the hell is going on in here?" Fleur snapped as she pulled Hermione to her feet, anger contorting her beautiful features.

"Fleur, you are here!" Maxime cried, turning to her student, looking ruffled and agitated.

"Madame, what is going on?" Fleur replied, stalking into the room, Hermione hurrying after her mate.

"Zese filthy 'omophobes are tryeeng to 'ave you removed from zee tournament and even expelled! Zis is nonsense! I 'ave 'ad it with zee British and zeir intolerance!" Maxime shouted, struggling to contain her accent as she, whirled on Karkaroff, wand still clutched tightly in her hand.

"Maxime, please...Calm yourself..." Snape murmured in his greasy voice.

"Calm myself?" Maxime's voice was the picture of disbelief.

"That is enough! This _dyke_ shouldn't even be allowed to practice magic! What she and her filthy _mudblood_ partner are doing is wrong-"

The room went very, very cold, very, very fast.

Karkaroff froze, instantly realizing his mistake.

Fleur's wand was in her hand faster than Hermione could realize she'd replaced the brunette's fingers with the slim wood.

"You bastard!" Fleur snarled. "Qui pensez-vous que vous êtes?"

"Ms. Delacour-" Dumbledore tried but it was Hermione who prevented the enraged Veela from cursing Karkaroff into oblivious. Her hands grabbed hold of Fleur's upraised arm and tugged it back down as the blond bared her sinking fangs, eyes shining red.

Never in all of her life had Fleur felt so much ferocity blooming like an angry red fire in her chest, heating her whole being up. Karkaroff's ignorant words set her teeth grinding and her neck prickling with a feathery blue down.

Hermione was the only thing stopping the pissed Veela from raising absolute hell in Dumbledore's office. Fleur snorted hot air through her nose as Maxime stood protectively in front of them when Karkaroff raised his wand defensively.

"You dare _raise your wand_ at them? They are students! ALBUS! This is ridiculous!" McGonagall cried.

_Ridiculous is right_, Hermione thought as Fleur turned to her, a growl rumbling in the back of her throat.

"Fleur, don't. Please," Hermione breathed, trembling as Fleur's thrall crackled around her skin. "They'll expel you for sure if you do...Fleur...?"

The blonde's nostrils flared and she snorted again, hissing softly as her magical blood boiled. Hermione put a hand to the taller girl's cheek, feeling Fleur's thrall twitch sporadically on contact. Fleur's lips thinned out and her eyes faded back to blue as Hermione bit her lip and trembled slightly.

"He's an ass. Come back to me," Hermione whispered and Fleur's eyelids fluttered.

She lowered her wand.

"Minister, I have had quite enough."

Dumbledore's voice sent chills running up Hermione's spine and Fleur turned towards the old man as everyone in the room gave him their full attention. They had never heard that tone from the old, kind hearted man.

"Karkaroff, you will leave the grounds of my school, _now_. I will not tolerate your presence around my students any longer."

"Albus, you must-"

"_Remove yourself or I will remove you myself_."

Karkaroff blanched back at Dumbledore's words, licking his upper teeth nervously as he glanced about the room. His gaze was met with nothing but stone, even from Snape.

"Fine. Have it your way, but I am taking my students with me, Krum included," Karkaroff snapped, whirling and stomping towards the door.

"I'm a-afraid that's out of the question, Karkaroff...Krum is bound to the tournament by a powerful magical contract...He can go nowhere until it is c-completed..." The Minister finally spoke up, rubbing his throat anxiously.

Karkaroff's whole body trembled with rage, and he gripped his wand tightly in his hand. His eyes swung towards Fleur and Hermione and locked with theirs.

"This is not over. Mark my words, you will regret this day," he hissed and Fleur shifted in front of Hermione, lip curling back to mirror his snarl.

"Put your ego to the side and get the _fuck _over it. And if you come near me or Hermione, you can be sure my foot is going up your ass, toes first," Fleur sneered and before anyone could stop her, she lashed her wand and the door slammed shut in Karkaroff's pissy face.

The room was silent for a long moment as Fleur's chest heaved and Hermione gripped her arm tightly, stomach churning at the conflict.

"I wish he would," Fleur muttered, knuckles white around her wand. "_I wish he would_."

"Fleur, my strong, fierce flower..." Maxime chuckled, fanning herself as she put a calming hand on the girl's shoulder and Hermione worked a muscle in her jaw.

"Well, Minister..." Dumbledore murmured then, floating down the steps of his office to stand with the people who occupied it. "I believe we have our answer as to whether or not Fleur is to remain in the tournament."

The Minister twitched nervously and fiddled with his thumbs.

"B-but Albus...People are complaining...We've never had to deal with..._Homosexuals_...In the Triwizard tournament..."

The Minister whispered the word 'homosexuals' like it was something scandalous, hard to say aloud.

Dumbledore spoke softly, but the impact of his words was no less profound.

"As you said yourself, Minister, the champions are bound to the tournament by a powerful, binding magical contract. Fleur cannot be removed from the tournament and if she could, rest assured, I would not allow it. I do not tolerate intolerance."

Hermione's brow furrowed at the oxymoron and Fleur, despite herself, smirked a bit at that.

_She is adorable_, the blond thought, squeezing the girl's hand gently as she reigned in her thrall. Hermione was looking haggard and out of it at this point. What had started off as a calm morning had quickly turned chaotic.

"I s-suppose you're right, Albus..." the Minister sighed, twisting his hat between his fingers.

"Well then...If that's settled, I would still like to see the appropriate punishment for Ms. Delacour's action outside of my classroom this past day..." Snape said silkily and Fleur rolled her eyes, feeling her thrall shudder with rising anger again.

"You 'ave got to be kidding me," Fleur murmured and Hermione flinched when she felt the blonde's thrall wind around her body, evocatively and invasively. The brunette shuddered and squeezed her thighs together, aware that she was starting to become slick under the constant feel of Fleur's thrall.

Maxime, however, snorted derisively and Snape's eyes narrowed.

"I will not be punishing my student for the actions and provocations of yours, Monsieur. You need to learn that your precious Slytherins are not so perfect."

Snape's eyes flashed and he sneered.

"Your precious, _perfect_ champion, Maxime, physically assaulted Draco Malfoy-"

"Under the filthy, disgusting provocations and intolerance of this horrid school!" Maxime interrupted and here, Dumbledore and McGonagall both frowned.

"Maxime, do not judge us all by the actions of the few. We do not all share those views, as you very well know," the proud, brilliant McGonagall frowned, glancing at Hermione out of the corner of her eye.

"I apologize, McGonagall...I know you are not like them...Forgive me, but I cannot stand by for this behavior. I believe I must take protective measures at this point as you, Albus, will obviously just stand by and let this behavior continue," Maxime said bitterly, haughtily tilting her chin up at the people who were already so much smaller than her gigantic frame.

"Fleur and the rest of my students will enter Hogwarts only when necessary and my champion will not step foot inside it for any reason. I cannot take the risk that something will happen to them. Fleur, you are forbidden to interact with any of these ruffians for any reason."

Fleur gawked, feeling suddenly betrayed by her Head Mistress.

"What? Ce n'est pas juste!" Fleur cried and Maxime turned to her student, steeling herself for the inevitable protests.

"Fleur..."

"Maxime, wait...Do not act so quickly..." Dumbledore tried by Fleur was not having it.

_There's no way. There is no way_! Fleur thought disbelievingly.

"What about 'ermione? What about all ze friends we 'ave made 'ere? We can protect ourselves! Do not be like zis! I refuse to leave 'er! Non, NO! Madame, please!" Fleur begged, her accent thickening in frustrated outrage.

Hermione was so torn at this point. Her head ached. This was all too much to handle at once. Fleur looked to be on the verge of a breakdown.

_Snape just had to open his mouth_, the brunette thought as she stepped back when Fleur stomped her foot like a petulant child when Madame Maxime remained firm.

"I cannot take the risk, Fleur! I will not have you getting hurt! What would Apolline say if she knew what was happening here?" Maxime argued, shaking her head as everyone else watched.

"She would zay that all zis is ridicu-ridicu-'owever ze 'ell you zay it! Ridiculous! And she'd 'ave zat man fired and Karkaroff's 'ead on a plate! You know she would!" Fleur yelled up at her mentor, gesturing wildly at Snape who sneered.

"No, she would bring you home, Fleur and make sure that Hogwarts got what for!" Maxime shouted. "Enough. I have made up my mind. Albus, do what you will, but I have made my decision."

"NO!" Fleur threw up her hands. "I refuse to leave 'ermione with all zis bullshit! I won't leave 'er unprotected! I won't leave 'er _period_! You can't make me."

Dumbledore sighed tiredly as Snape and McGonagall remained quiet while the Minister murmured under his breath, too shy for all this excitement.

"If that is how you feel, Maxime..."

"It is."

"Very well then...Do as you must."

"NO! Goddamn it! Hermione, say something!" Fleur cried, turning on her mate who had begun to cry quietly. "Don't you care? I'll never see you again," Fleur breathed, bewildered by her mate's silence.

Unbeknownst to Fleur, Hermione was slowly going mad in her mind. Fleur's thrall was doing all sorts of things to the girl's emotional, physical and mental psyche. They were both on the verge of a breakdown.

_I...I don't know what to say...I can't breathe..._Hermione thought. _Never see her again? What?_

Fleur gave up when Hermione only opened and closed her mouth, unable to speak.

"Maxime, please! Just let 'ermione come to see us, or let me come to see 'er! At least, please, just 'ermione...She is my mate, you can't separate us..." Fleur pleaded but Maxime had really dug her feet in with this one.

"No. I refuse to allow that. She is friends with the Potter boy, and this tournament is already deceitful enough. We will finish it out, and then go home. Apolline will decide what to do about you and your mate."

Fleur positively snarled. Her thrall pulsed, ached and throbbed with teenage hormones and emotional stress. It didn't just affect Fleur; it affected Hermione.

"Back to France? Without 'er? I CAN'T! Don't do zis to me! Maman will never let me come back to zis place after 'earing about what 'as 'appened, mate or not! You know zat, Maxime, _please_...I'm _begging _you..."

Maxime's eyes were watering; if one looked closely enough, they could tell. Fleur was crying but she didn't know it and Hermione was frozen, suffocating under a panicking thrall.

There was a long moment of silence.

"No. That is my final word on the matter. Fleur, come. _Now. _We are going back to the carriage_._"

Fleur did not. She whirled on Hermione who flinched.

"Don't you care?" Fleur gasped, tears pouring freely now. "Don't you get it? I will not see you again. _Hermione_! They're taking me away from you and you're just going to let them!" Fleur yelled.

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?" Hermione finally snapped, balling her hands up by her waist, exploding as her chest heaved. "I can't _do_ anything! I don't know what you want me to do, what you want me to _say_!"

"Tell them no! Tell me you actually give a damn!" Fleur screamed, eyes blazing in confusion and hurt as Hermione sobbed brokenly.

"And what if I _DON'T_? What then? What if I _don't_ care? Maybe I can't take this! You're tearing me apart, Fleur, and I can't stand it! I can't _take_ this!" Hermione screamed back and Fleur shrank back like she'd been slapped.

Hermione?

She turned and ran for the door, staggering through it as Dumbledore and McGonagall both cried for her to stop. McGonagall's voice could faintly be heard arguing with Maxime's as the brunette vaulted down the Gryphon's stairs, running as hard as she could.

Hermione knew, vaguely in the back of her mind that her outburst and inability to deal with what was happening was because of Fleur's thrall and the bond they shared. The book had said it, and Hermione knew it, but she couldn't seem to think of that at the moment.

All she knew was that her heart was breaking, her stomach ached and her skull throbbed. So she did the only thing she could; she ran and ran until she couldn't feel Fleur's thrall anymore, until she couldn't see the blonde's shining blue eyes, hear her silken French voice, until they were just memories.

Fleur?

She remained where she stood, arms limply by her sides, the sounds of the adults arguing around her like they _always_ did, cold, empty, and completely and utterly alone.


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione stared out of her window at the night sky, legs drawn up so that her chin could rest on her knees. Her arms were wrapped around her legs and her heart beat a slow steady rhythm against her rib cage, making the brunette's chest ache.

The Veela dating book was sprawled open on her bedside table, the pages flipped awry to some odd page that Hermione had been half heartedly reading.

_When a mated pair have an explosive outbreak and/or relapse (and they always will), things usually pass by with a sexual make up which happens quickly, as in right after the fight with no more than twenty four hours in between the sex and the fight, or in a long drawn out war of wills between the two._

_The foremost option would be the most pleasurable, and the easiest way to settle things, obviously. However, this is not common among younger mates, who often must butt heads until they knock the anger and emotional hurt right out of their thick skulls. _

_The most frustrating thing of all would most likely be the pointlessness of most fights between newly mated couples. What seems simple and easy will be blown out of proportion as a young Veela does not know how to control her thrall, and therefore causes emotional and physical stress to her partner. _

_Ah, but there is always the off chance that two mates may be separated before they have been able to reconcile. If this is to happen, things may go a little of the way-side, for the Veela in particular..._

_When Veela are separated from their mates for long periods of time over long distances, they may become a bit...Nasty, to say the least. The Veela thrall is a jealous, protective, possessive thing, and when kept away from what it wants above all, it can do peculiar things to a Veela, particular turning them into a roaring, raging bitch for lack of a better word._

_For the human, they become pathetic and needy. Their chests ache relentlessly. They long and long and hurt and hurt. It does not ease. They have become so accustomed to the euphoria of being in the presence of the Veela's thrall and the Veela as a person herself, that the combined pains turn them into a complete pitiful wreck._

_For the two to meet again after a long time would be utterly...Chaotic. It is not advised to allow mates to endure this, no matter the circumstances._

_It's not good to fight, as mates. But really, the only way to fix it is the hardest. Suck it up and go fix it, but never let the emotions simmer, because all that does is set the two mates up for another explosion..._

The night was cool, as Hermione had opened the window. She was sitting in the sill, fingering her wand and breathing in deep, full breaths that refreshed her mind and soothed her burning heart.

Two weeks.

Two.

Weeks.

Two long, horrible weeks.

It had been two weeks since what had happened in Dumbledore's office and Hermione Jean Granger had had _enough_.

She was tired of the whispers, tired of the rumors, tired of the muttering, pointing, staring, mumbling and _everything_. She was sick of the ache in her chest, the throbbing in her skull, and the longing for Fleur. She was just sick of it all.

She was mostly just tired of replaying every single event that had ever happened between her and the young Veela, most notably the night they had first made love on the balcony.

_Hermione's moan was high pitched and broken when Fleur pushed her harder back into the balcony railing, lips painting tattoos along her sensitive bronzed skin in the pale moonlight._down_ and pushed Hermione's dress up over her hips._

_Slender fingers played patterns along delicate nerve endings as Fleur's hands went_

_There was a crimson fire in the brunette's cheeks that had Fleur panting as she murmured words of praise and affection into the girl's ear. But she didn't move any further, just gripped Hermione's hips with fervor, digging her fingertips in._

_For a long moment, they were at a standstill. But remarkably, it was Hermione who kept them moving onward. She couldn't take the stillness and there was a fire in her body, searing her from the inside out. She turned her head and kissed Fleur with so much passion that it made her stomach knot tightly. She grasped the blonde's wrist and brought it between her thighs, asking, pleading, _begging_ for more as her emotions played havoc with her mind, body and soul._

_Fleur gave it to her, without hesitation. The air steamed around them as Fleur's fingers dipped under Hermione's panty line and touched the soft wetness. _

_Then she really knew how much she was burning Hermione when her fingers were enveloped in nothing but heat and she sizzled away with it, lighting up like the stars far over head. _

_Those stars were all Hermione could see, but she saw Fleur in every single one when her head fell back and her eyes widened slightly, and she let Fleur know it by saying her name, over and over and over..._

"_Fleur, Fleur, Fleur..."_

"Fleur, Fleur, Fleur..." Hermione breathed, eyes shut tightly as she remembered, savored and burned once more.

Her eyes suddenly snapped open and she set her jaw.

Enough was enough. She could not just turn and run anymore. She could not be such a coward. She could not just sit here and miss Fleur and just stand by while they fell apart. She hadn't even seen her mate in two whole weeks, and the last time she'd seen her, she'd took the blonde's heart and shattered it...Again.

And she would be damned if the words in the book became true. She had to see Fleur before the girl went back to France. The third task was only a week away.

"That's it," Hermione muttered, standing up quickly but quietly, gripping her wand tightly.

_I have to see her_, she thought, turning and padding towards the door to the girl's common room.

_I have to fix this, for me, for her, for _everyone, the brunette added mentally as she silently opened the door and began a brisk walk down the stairs, now a woman on a mission.

Indeed, it was not just Fleur and Hermione who were suffering. Once again, all of Hermione's friends were forced to back off of the depressed brunette, having no way to help. They'd all tried to convince Maxime to change her mind, to no avail. They'd all tried to cheer the girl up, but nothing worked.

If they pushed, Hermione pushed back ten times as hard and threw in a middle finger for good measure.

No, it was time to fix this.

Hermione opened the door to the Gryffindor tower and ignored the Fat Lady's gruff snort and incoherent sleep babbling. She padded down the hallways in nothing more than socks, a loose fitting white t-shirt and short black shorts, wand in hand.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't a good idea to be roaming the halls without Harry's invisibility cloak or the Marauder's map, but...

Hermione didn't really care at that point. She jogged quietly through the corridors, keeping the light on her wand dim and her breathing soft. She made it just to the doors of the library and was attempting to sneak past when the shadows began to move off to her right.

The brunette whipped around, wand brightening as she threw light on the figure emerging.

"Malfoy?"

Hermione's lips parted in surprise and then slid shut, thinning out.

"What're you doing slithering around here, Draco?" she snapped, lowering her wand, but only just as Malfoy stepped out from behind the statue he'd been hiding behind.

"I could ask you the same question, Granger. But I already know because you're entirely predictable," Draco replied in his silky voice, sneering as he took a step forward, hands in his pockets.

Hermione's stomach flip flopped as a familiar instinct bubbled inside her. Four years of running around with Harry and Ron had made the brunette especially attuned to it. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she gripped her wand a slight bit tighter.

"Whatever, Malfoy. I don't have time for this," Hermione rolled her eyes, turning her back on the blond git.

Big mistake.

As soon as Hermione had turned completely around, she felt a sharp crack hit between her shoulder blades and she crumpled instantly, pain lancing up her spine from the stunning curse.

"Tsk, tsk. And they say you're brilliant. What fools," Draco chuckled as he trotted over, wand grasped in his hand as he nudged Hermione onto her back with his foot, smirking down on her.

"You should know better than to drop your guard around your rival house, mudblood. It's time for some payback for what your little girlfriend did to me in the hallway," Draco's sneer returned, malevolent and unnerving.

Hermione's stomach churned, but she couldn't speak. Her body was limp and she could not move.

"You see, I've been waiting for you for ages, Granger. Just waiting for you to finally give in to your little bond with Delacour and go running for her. I knew you'd have to pass by the library to get outside, and so I camped out here, every night. Or sent Crab or Goyle. But I knew I'd catch you eventually," Malfoy gloated as he leaned down and pried Hermione's wand from her hand.

_This is bad_, the brunette thought nervously, eyes locked on Draco's ugly, arrogant face.

"You look surprised, Granger. What, you think I wouldn't know anything about Veela bonds? Father likes to keep them around for..._Entertainment_..."

Malfoy chuckled a bit, shaking his head and Hermione felt sick.

"I hold a grudge. It runs in the family, you see. Say goodbye to that pretty little face of yours, Granger. Delacour definitely won't be wanting you after this," Draco smirked and pointed his wand between Hermione's eyes.

The brunette was panicking as Draco's lips parted, preparing to curse. Her heart hammered in her chest.

_I wish Fleur was here to save me this time_, she thought, regretting all the times she'd never said thank you to her lover for the multiple times she'd been rescued by her.

WHAM.

As if on cue, something hurtled out of the darkness and slammed into Draco, sending him sprawling. A loud hissing could be heard as Draco's wand went flying, the light going out as the boy yelped pitifully.

"Who the hell-"

"_Je vais te tuer_!"

Hermione's heart leaped at the sound of that voice and she tried to call Fleur's name but she was only just beginning to be able to move again, and she couldn't manage it.

There was a loud bang as Hermione tried to see into the dark, heart pounding as Draco yelped aloud. There was a flash of white light and Hermione winced as she struggled to sit up, and then it was dark again, completely silent.

Trembling, Hermione finally managed to speak.

"F-Fleur...?"

There was no response, but Hermione heard footsteps approaching and knew there was someone in front of her. Then, a soft, warm light appeared and she could see again.

Fleur was standing in front of her, looking down at the brunette. She said nothing, just glared down, Hermione's wand in her hand.

Hermione's breath hitched.

Fleur's eyes were red.

The younger girl struggled to stand as she tried to get the feeling back in her muscles, Draco's spell rapidly fading.

"Fleur, w-what are you doing here? How did you know to come find me? You're forbidden to be in the castle...Fleur?"

The blond said nothing, just worked a muscle in her jaw as she stared into Hermione's chocolate orbs unwaveringly. Though the feathery down on her temples was receding from her partial transformation, her eyes remained a menacing red. It made Hermione feel anxious.

"Fleur, _say something_. Why are you looking at me like that?"

Fleur didn't respond verbally, but she suddenly began to walk forward, right up in Hermione's face. The brunette reflexively backpedaled until she hit the wall beside the library doors. Fleur kept coming and Hermione flinched when the much taller girl slammed her hands onto either side of the brunette's head, pinning her.

"What ze 'ell are you doing out 'ere, hmm?" Fleur hissed, face very close to Hermione's, enough so that the younger girl could feel the Veela's sweet breath on her lips.

"F-Fleur..."

"What is wrong with you, 'Ermione? Huh? Do you 'ave a death wish? Well? _Do_ you?" Fleur suddenly began to yell, slamming one hand against the wall again. Her accent was thick and she was obviously furious.

Hermione blanched and turned her head away, almost whimpering.

Fleur had never yelled at her as was now. She had never been so...Aggressive or so..._Scary_...

And Hermione couldn't lie, though part of her was terrified, the other part of her was strangely...Turned on.

It had been much, much too long since the younger girl had felt the effects of the Veela's thrall. Now that she was suddenly being smothered in it, her mind was drawing a blank.

Fleur's thrall crackled in the air, little lightning bolts dancing across Hermione's skin from its electric charge. Hermione shuddered and blushed a fiery crimson as she felt herself moistening.

"Don't look away from me. Look at me. _Look at me _when I'm talking to you."

Hermione's face was drawn back to Fleur's when the blond grabbed her chin and turned her. The brunette squirmed under that red, angry gaze.

"F-Fleur, stop...Why are you being like this?" Hermione whimpered out, horribly aware of how close they were.

Fleur's lips thinned out and her eyes widened ever so slightly with disbelief.

"Why am I being like this?" she breathed and that muscle, that sexy muscle was going again in her jaw.

The words of the book suddenly came flying back to Hermione.

How long had it been since she had last seen Fleur? Two weeks? The longest they'd ever gone apart was one, and that had been bad enough. Fleur, although she'd been kinder than kind, had no doubt been hiding the effects of their separation, shoving her anger and frustration down.

But now, when they'd left it on such a bad note, when Hermione had left it on such a bad note, _again_...No, things were different this time.

Hermione herself was feeling it in a bad way. She had never needed Fleur as much as she had these past few days. She had never felt so weak or so susceptible to the girl than in this moment, suffocating under that vicious, scorned thrall.

Hermione couldn't lie to herself; she was wet. Fleur was turning her on, effortlessly. And she knew the blond knew it, too. Fleur's nostrils flared as her red eyes glared deeply into Hermione's soul, stunning her stupid.

"Fleur," Hermione squeaked when she felt the taller girl press against her body tightly. She felt the Veela shudder and duck her head into the crook of the brunette's neck. Then she felt a pair of warm, moist, heart shaped lips press roughly to her throat.

"Fleur, _I'm sorry_..." Hermione managed to gasp when the blond nipped her neck lightly as tears began to roll out of her watering eyes.

Hermione's chest ached as she tried to understand her hurting, angry lover.

There was a loud, derisive snort.

"_Bullshit_."

"I mean it, Fleur," Hermione protested as Fleur pulled back, mouth twisted in a scowl.

"I don't care."

"Don't say that..." Hermione whispered, heart twitching painfully.

"Why the hell not? _You_ did," Fleur sneered bitterly, still pressed against her mate.

"If you didn't care, you wouldn't be here right now," Hermione murmured and Fleur's lips pressed together and her eyes narrowed.

There was a long moment of silence as they stared each other down, Fleur's chest rising and falling rapidly.

"_Fuck off_."

Hermione flinched at Fleur's words as the Veela shoved off of the wall and turned on her heel, dropping Hermione's wand to the floor, the tip remaining lit as she walked away, towards Draco who was beginning to squirm as he regained consciousness.

"F-Fleur!" Hermione cried as soon as she regained her senses. The girl's thrall had left her punch drunk and she was trying to get her mind to work properly and her libido to chill out.

The Veela didn't respond, just kept going, kicking Draco in the ribs on her way by for good measure and causing him to grunt and curl up again.

She disappeared into the darkness, and Hermione began to cry. She leaned down for her wand, biting her lip. She glanced at Draco, who was rolling and whimpering on the floor like the big fat baby he was. Hermione grimaced when she saw the ugly scorch mark on his forehead and the swelling in his face. She wondered what spell Fleur had shot at him and what its effects might be.

She didn't hang around to contemplate. She took off towards the Gryffindor common room, deciding going after Fleur at the current moment probably wouldn't be a good idea.

_Why do Veela have to be so damn complicated_? Hermione thought unhappily as she walked, crying silently.

They made no freaking sense. Fleur shows up out of nowhere like Hermione's knight in skin tight jeans to save her from Draco, throws a complete bitch fit and then just walks away.

It made no sense. Fleur was the biggest conundrum to Hermione on the face of the planet.

Hermione knew she'd done wrong when she'd run from Fleur like that. She knew she should have controlled herself better, but Fleur's thrall was a serious problem in what it did to the both of them. It ruined pretty much everything and made them like emotional lunatics. She knew Fleur's Veela blood was the reason for the way she was acting, and her thrall didn't help matters.

Not to mention it continuously ruined Hermione's panties...


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione shivered slightly in the cold, hugging her light black jacket tighter around herself. She wished she'd worn baggie jeans and a heavier coat.

But then again, Hermione was wishing for a lot of things lately, and none of them were coming true.

She sighed softly as she walked towards the Quidditch pitch, teeth chattering, her hood up and her heart aching painfully. Her stomach churned, her skin crawled, her throat felt tight. The sickness from Fleur's lack of thrall had only gotten worse in the past three days.

Hermione had only managed to tear herself from the warm comfort of her sheets that cold morning because her nature forbid her to miss Harry's big match today, the one celebrating the final task of the Triwizard tournament. The fact that it was against Slytherin was what convinced her it was best to go and support the friend she'd been ignoring and mistreating lately. It was the least she could do.

Quite simply, Hermione was downright miserable. She'd been crying nonstop, couldn't get any sort of food down and barely even drank anything. Ginny had threatened to send her to Nurse Pomfrey. Hermione wished she'd send her to Fleur instead.

Every step was painful and took a lot of effort for the young brunette. Her mental self loathing was a constant these days.

_I am so stupid. I ruin everything. I can't do anything right. She'll never forgive me. I miss her so much and I don't deserve her_, Hermione thought, freezing to a slow death as she padded ever closer to the Quidditch pitch.

"Hey, Hermione!" a feminine voice called. "What're you doing? You're gonna freeze to death! Get over here!"

The brunette reluctantly turned, feeling the spite welling deep in her stomach as it always did when someone dared to interrupt her sulking with some sense of well meaning.

It was Ginny emerging from the Gryffindor locker room door off to the brunette's left.

_Damn. So close_, Hermione thought, eyeing the entrance to the pitch which was only a few feet away.

"You're gonna kill yourself dressing like that," Ginny said as she approached, cheeks bright pink and dressed in the Gryffindor Quidditch uniform.

Hermione's brow furrowed. Her natural objection to the oddity was shoved down by her yearning heartache. Ginny wasn't on the Quidditch team. It didn't make sense.

Hermione didn't care about sensibility anymore.

"Oh, don't mind the robes. I'm filling in for George; git managed to knock himself unconscious fooling around with Fred last night with their potions an' all that. He's alright, I suppose. Pomfrey's workin' on him," Ginny explained, noticing the slight twitch in Hermione's lip.

"Right," Hermione muttered, completely not giving a shit about the foolish Weasley boy. "Look, Gin...I'm alright. I don't need to change. I'll be fi-"

"No. Don't give me that attitude you've been giving me, 'Mione. You need to change. There's some spare robes in here, made for the cold weather. I want you to put them on, please. _Please_."

Hermione felt a sharp pang at the tone of Ginny's voice; it sounded so much like Fleur's when she did the whole I'm-asking-but-I'm-really-not thing. Only, it was laced with frustration and pleading.

The brunette hesitated, feeling sorry for how she'd been treating her friend.

"Okay," she reluctantly agreed.

Ginny beamed.

"Let's hurry, though. The game's about to start, with or without me. Come on," Ginny hurried her friend and turned back to the locker room. She jogged back to the door and disappeared inside, Hermione dragging her feet as she followed.

They entered the empty locker room and Ginny pointed Hermione to the row of lockers that rested against the far wall.

"They're the spares. Should keep you nice and toasty, 'Mione," Ginny grinned but her expression abruptly fell as the shrill shriek of a whistle blowing reached their ears.

"Ah, hell! Later, Hermione!" Ginny called over her shoulder, dashing for the door and snatching her broom off a nearby bench as she went.

Hermione could hear faint explosive cheering that cut off when the door shut behind her caring friend. Sighing heavily, Hermione trotted to the lockers.

"Motherfucker!" Hermione swore, scowling deeply at the padded lock that barred her from the irksome robes she hadn't even cared for in the first place.

"Have I told you before how sexy you are when you curse, Hermione?"

A shiver lanced up Hermione's spinal column. She tried to whirl, desperately going for her wand. It was instinctive maneuvering ever since Draco had assaulted her in the hallway. She barely, just barely processed that familiar voice and then she was slammed up against the lockers, a tall, warm body pinning her to them.

The back of Hermione's skull began to swim and her lips parted slightly with pleasure as magical thrall instantly coursed through her veins, viciously swathing her skin.

"F-Fleur-"

Hermione couldn't speak. She struggled to turn her head and see the lascivious blond, but her knees were buckling.

"I meant with your mouth, your lips and your tongue, love. Not with your wand," Fleur whispered softly in the brunette's ear, but even though she'd stopped Hermione from accidentally cursing her into oblivion, she didn't move away from the shorter girl.

Hermione was starting to pant. Confusion made her brain ache as her body screamed with pleasure, saturated in the thrall it had been craving that was so suddenly thrust upon it.

"F-Fleur, w-what're you- what a-are you d-doing? H-how did y-you g-get here?" Hermione practically simpered out, throat bobbing as she swallowed heavily.

Fleur purred.

Hermione shivered.

"I came in as Ginny was leaving. She was too focused on the game to notice me," Fleur murmured, hands on either side of Hermione's head. The brunette glanced weakly over her shoulder, eyes burning with delight, eating up Fleur's beautiful features, her gorgeous blue eyes.

"You...I'm not going to attack you," Hermione said breathily. "Y-you can...Let me...Go..."

Fleur only smiled a peculiar, seductive, dangerous smile.

"Non, I don't think I will..." the blond smirked and Hermione trembled violently when Fleur rested her chin on the younger girl's shoulder.

There was something...Off about Fleur. She was more beautiful than Hermione could ever remember, but she also seemed...

Darker. Stronger. More feral.

"I hadn't quite planned on approaching you like this, but I'm really not complaining at this point. I was just going to follow you in here, and talk to you, _ma belle_..."

There was something about the way that Fleur said 'ma belle' that both upset Hermione and made her sex clench.

Hermione felt her skin tingling, felt Fleur's thrall shocking her system. Everything felt so good to the brunette; even her heart was beating with pleasure, pumping her veins full of Veela thrall, and therefore delicious euphoria.

The younger girl was aroused, almost instantly when Fleur had pressed against her. Now, she could tell she was wet.

Despite her bodily reactions, Hermione felt her stomach knot anxiously. Her mind was not to be overcome that easily. There was something up with her mate and it was making the brunette increasingly nervous.

"I've wanted to come talk to you ever since I walked away from you, Hermione. It's not because I missed you, if that's what you're thinking," Fleur practically sneered and Hermione's heart twitched painfully.

The shorter girl suddenly remembered the book with a vengeance.

_Of course_, Hermione thought, fighting off a moan as Fleur pushed closer, harder. Fleur's behavior was easily explainable; their separation did not only affect Hermione. It turned Fleur into what she was now, this luscious, seething woman that was curved so tightly against Hermione's body.

Well...Then Hermione certainly seemed to be in a pinch. Fleur could be violent, hostile and cruel at this stage.

"No, I didn't miss you. I don't miss you now, not one bit, _ma belle_. I'm angry. I am so damn _angry_ at you, did you know that? I sat alone and waited through the nights, _hating_ you. I hated you. I _hate_ you," Fleur whispered in Hermione's ear, evilly stabbing through the girl's heart with every word.

A gasp of hurt left Hermione's mouth, but Fleur went on and let her hands fall to the brunette's sides. Grasping at Hermione's ribs, Fleur continued to speak in that low, rasping voice.

"You let me go through all the _shit_ I go through for you and all you ever do is hurt me. You take everything I give you and you throw it back in my face. I don't care what this bond does to _you_ and _your_ emotions, not anymore. I'm tired of the _agony_ I go through for you. Do you know what I'm feeling, Hermione? Do you have any idea? Do you _feel_ me?" Fleur hissed and suddenly arched her hips into the brunette's ass, _grinding_ into her hard as she dug her nails into the thin jacket.

Hermione let out an embarrassing high pitched moan and pressed back into Fleur, squirming. Fleur laughed a soft, cruel laugh.

"I bet you weren't expecting this, Hermione...I bet you didn't expect me to come here today. I bet you expected me to come crawling back to you one lonely night and beg you to take me back. I bet you expected me to say _sorry_ for _hurting your feelings_," Fleur sneered and Hermione's stomach tightened with arousal and anxiety.

Hermione may have understood the reasons for Fleur's behavior; that didn't mean she liked it.

Okay, she did. Her body was throbbing with arousal and Fleur's thrall wound tightly around her throat, suffocating her in her own ecstasy.

But she didn't. Fleur was being, well...A total bitch. A cold, heartless bitch.

And Hermione felt...Like she deserved every bit of it.

She felt awful as Fleur pointed out nothing but the absolute truth. Hermione had done everything she was being accused of. She couldn't speak to deny or protest or apologize. She was melting into Fleur, her head throbbing.

"What, Hermione? Nothing to say? Too shocked to speak?" Fleur breathed, a mocking giggle in her words, her slight French lilt only turning Hermione on more. Fleur molded her body to Hermione's, sliding her hands under that pathetic excuse for a jacket.

Hermione yelped as cold hands pressed to the heat of her tummy, applying delicious pressure to her sensitive skin. Fleur's half inch dark blue nails rested on the younger girl's ribs and the points dug in, not enough to hurt, but enough for Hermione to feel it.

"_Say something_," Fleur growled from the back of her throat, right in Hermione's ear, hot, sweet breath panting over the shell.

Hermione keened, stomach flip flopping. Fleur groaned and ground against Hermione slowly, palms resting on the smooth, curved bones beneath soft tanned skin as her nails threatened to pierce it.

"F-Fleur..." Hermione whimpered through staccato breaths, held up only by Fleur's powerful body. "Y-you...You're not y-yourself...S-stop...J-just calm d-down...We can t-talk about it..."

Hermione recognized her mistake instantly. Fleur's entire body tightened and she dug her nails in harder, and this time it hurt.

"_Calm down_, baby?" Fleur hissed. "You want me to _calm down_? Sweetheart, I'm just getting warmed up."

Hermione felt Fleur's anger like it was a real physical presence, smothering her against these lockers. The blonde's thrall smashed into her nervous system and Hermione cried out, pushing her hips back so she was grinding into Fleur's lap.

Fleur dug her nails into Hermione's ribs harder, breaking skin and she felt the draw of the tension in Fleur's wrists, prepared to tear those nails across tanned flesh.

For the first time, Hermione felt fear. It mixed with the arousal and the anxiety, the want and the ache. The firestorm raged in her stomach, and heated up her insides.

Unlike Fleur's usual reaction to Hermione's show of this particular dark emotion, the blond inhaled deeply, burying her nose into the brunette's neck.

"You scared, baby?" Fleur whispered softly, moist heart shaped lips playing along the back of the shorter girl's ear.

Hermione whimpered submissively, pressing harder back into the Veela.

_What's wrong with me? _She thought, half panicked out of her mind. _You know exactly what's wrong. _

Her subconscious parried and toyed with her sanity.

This was not the Fleur Hermione knew. It was not the sweet, protective young woman Hermione had come to know in their trials and errors. It was not _Fleur_. It was a stranger in her body. The stranger was sexy and dangerous, positively lethal with her seductive, angry charm.

It was the Fleur that was possessed by anger and hate and hurt; it was the Fleur that hid deep down inside, released only when separated from her beloved, the one thing that kept it from rising up like it had now.

_Should've listened to that book_, Hermione managed to berate herself.

It wasn't just Fleur that was acting different. Hermione knew that if she was herself, she would feel no arousal from Fleur's close, dominating proximity. She would feel pure fear and rage at being handled like this, despite what she might have done to hurt Fleur in the past and Fleur's understandable reaction to it, not to mention the effects of the separation.

But she wasn't. She just felt weak, helpless and needy, like the book said she would. She felt like she deserved Fleur's spite, her heated words. She needed to feel Fleur's touch on her skin, feeling the electric zip of pleasure that coursed through nerves. She wanted Fleur's thrall to wrap around her and coax her carnal desire forth.

She hated that. She hated feeling so weak and helpless against this different Fleur, so powerless, so pathetic and pitiful. Hermione was overwhelmed. The emotions of their bond had her in a panicked, slick, wanting, hating, loving frenzy.

The brunette couldn't deal with it. She couldn't speak. Fleur's thrall pulsed through her mind, owning it, taking it.

Hermione felt like she was going to die, and she knew she was going to love every second of it. A sick part of her wanted Fleur to slash her skin, to sear her body with the pain of her nails drawing blood.

There was a loud bang as the door to the locker room slammed open on the other side of the room and Hermione jumped hard, startled. This, of course, only caused her ass to press harder into Fleur.

Fleur turned her head, dark blue eyes taking in the stunned face of Katie Bell.

"Oh, wow. That's hot," she grinned wolfishly, broom on her shoulder. "I really can't even remember what I got penalized for in the game now."

Fleur's eyes narrowed and an icy chill went through the room. Hermione whimpered again.

"I suggest you leave. _Now_."

Fleur's voice was tight and soft, laced with power and fury. It seemed to reach out (accompanied by a wave of angry thrall) and slap Katie across the face as the girl flinched.

"Yeah...Uh...Sorry...I'll just...Go now...Yeah..."

Katie went back out the door, hastily retreating.

Hermione's forehead rested on the lockers, mortified shame eating away at her insides. If she'd not been separated from Fleur for so long, she'd be enraged at the fact that they'd been caught in such a compromising position. As it was, she felt nothing but embarrassment and a heat in her slick sex that wasn't eased one damn bit by Katie Bell's entrance.

This sickness was really getting to the brunette.

For a long moment, nothing was said or done. Fleur just rested against Hermione, nails still digging hotly into her ribs. Then, the blond relaxed, palms going flat on her shaking mate's sides. They slid up, fingers curving through the spaces between each rib, making Hermione shiver.

Fleur stepped back completely from Hermione. The brunette was practically on her knees at this point. She didn't do anything when the taller girl moved away. She merely stood there and waited...She didn't know for what.

"Here. I don't want to see you dressed like that in this weather anymore," Fleur said in a matter of fact tone and Hermione hesitantly turned, still drunk off thrall. She rested her back against the lockers as Fleur removed her heavy black coat, the one with the white fur hood that she'd worn when they went to the Rosemary.

That was the day Hermione had learned of all this nonsense, this love and hate and emotional turmoil.

The sudden change in Fleur's demeanor through Hermione off in a bad way. She couldn't focus.

"Oddly enough, out of everything you did, that's what put me over the edge, ma belle. It pissed me off more than you can imagine. Don't do it again."

Fleur's voice wasn't as sneering or mocking as it had been earlier. It held a commanding tone, but there was something unidentifiable in it as well. When she said ma belle, it didn't sound like it had earlier. It sounded like it always had; like a term of endearment and affection.

It made Hermione melt. _Damn this bond_, she thought.

Hermione should have bristled at the obvious order. 'Don't do it again.' Had Hermione been herself, she'd have told Fleur to put her coat where the sun didn't shine. But she wasn't. She just bit her lip, still trembling and took the coat.

"Okay..." she breathed. "I'm sorry..." she added pathetically.

Fleur said nothing. She just stood and stared at her mate, brow furrowed slightly. Then she turned and headed for the door.

Instant panic gripped Hermione's hammering heart.

"Fleur!" she cried, straightening up rapidly.

The blond paused but didn't look back.

"Where are you going? You can't just walk away after this! _Please_," Hermione gasped, feeling hot tears beginning to press at the backs of her eyes. Disbelief made her stomach drop.

Fleur snorted.

"Obviously, I can."

And she did. Hermione watched as Fleur disappeared out the door, and felt the tears sliding down her face. She trembled hard and began to cry. Emotions rip roared through her mind, body and soul as she stood there, yearning for her mate to come back.

She hated this sickness that had dug its claws into her heart. She felt pathetic, worthless, useless. She couldn't do anything. Nothing made sense anymore.

Yet, despite all this sickness and her inability to summon any indignity about anything Fleur had just done to her, one thing did manage to superbly annoy the young brunette.

Fleur's thrall had ruined her panties again.


	16. Chapter 16

_**I know it's short, but roll with it, please? Sorry for the horrid updating speed, by the way.**_

* * *

Hermione stood there for a moment, lips pressed together in a thin line. Her brilliant mind whirled. The cogs and gears, so rusted with heartache, now began to turn with a rapidity that had become almost unfamiliar.

Almost, but not quite. The near three weeks her mind had shut down due to Fleur's absence was beginning to fade. Her brain, kick started by thrall and emotions, had begun to process once more.

But it didn't process like it once had. Hermione had always thought based on logic and reason. Of course, there was no way they would ever be entirely removed from her thought process. There was always the underlying tone of it in her mind.

Now, though? She ran entirely off of her pure, unadulterated _indignity_.

Hermione was a proud creature, deep down. She was not tamable. She enjoyed her individuality and though she was not a rebellious person by any means, she was not controlled by _anyone_.

Fleur had just crossed a very thin line, Veela bond and its effects be damned.

_How _dare _she. Who does she think she is?_ Hermione suddenly felt the hot swell of anger building up through her stomach and blossom in her chest.

"Fleur Delacour!" Hermione suddenly cried, slamming her fist angrily into the lockers beside her. "She doesn't own me. I'll show you _scared_, woman," the fiery brunette snarled as her passion burned inside.

Without hesitating, Hermione sprinted for the door, Fleur's jacket clutched tightly in her right fist. She blasted out of it, startling a group of flushed looking first years going by towards the Quidditch pitch.

_Don't know what I was thinking, can't believe that actually aroused me...I am NOT controlled by this damn bond...I will think rationally...I am not some needy little bitch...I am not _her _bitch...Screw that book!_ Hermione was on a rampage as she stomped into the roaring stadium.

Brown eyes blazing, she looked right at the Ravenclaw section of the stands and spotted a group of people that seemed to shine a little more than the rest. They were in the middle of a sea of blue. It was the Veela.

Hermione had two options; she could go up the stairs to her left or her right and go all the way around to the Ravenclaws across the stadium. The right stairs led towards the Slytherins. She booked it to the left, and was quickly up to the top of the stairs, ignoring the yelling and screaming from excited Houses.

She didn't even pause to think about how Harry and Ginny were doing up there. She was on a mission. She sprinted past waves of golden Hufflepuffs, and was barely out of breath by the time she reached the Gryffindors on the other side. She finally reached the blue robes, though many donned crimson face paint in support of Gryffindor.

"FLEUR DELACOUR!" Hermione screamed over the pounding cheers as her chocolate eyes found her mate, seated on the first row and sitting calmly with her coven.

Fleur glanced up, eyebrows raising slightly and then narrowing quickly as Hermione threw the jacket roughly towards her head but caught her in the chest instead.

"Who the hell do you think you are!" Hermione cried, coming straight up to the Veela. "Never, in my _life_ have I seen someone so, so narcissistic and sadistic and_ arrogant_-"

Fleur stood rapidly, scowling harshly at each insult. She was a Veela; it was common knowledge that she wouldn't take well to insults.

Hermione was absolutely beyond the point of caring.

"You twisted, fowl, loathsome-GOD! You hate me? I hate you, too!" Hermione screamed.

And there went any sort of logical thinking left in the young brunette's brain. She operated entirely on emotions as Fleur's thrall whipped them into a frenzy beyond control.

"Common knowledge, sweetheart! Tell me something I don't know!" Fleur snarled back, stepping right up into Hermione's face. Under any other circumstance, Hermione would have backed off in an instant as the blond rose to her full, intimidating height, towering over the brunette. "Why else would you take everything I have and then leave me hanging, huh? You selfish-"

Whatever Fleur said then was cut off by a particular loud roar from the crowd. Neither noticed what had happened.

Hermione got the idea easily enough.

"I never meant to! Whenever I try to fix things they always go wrong because you don't listen to me! You stupid thrall ruins everything and you know it!" Hermione yelled back, fists tightening into her palms.

"Quit running scared, Hermione! Take some responsibility for once! You never tried to fix anything! Granted, you gave it a real good go once, didn't you? You never have anything to say when it counts, even when I'm right in front of you after saving you, _again_!"

"Maybe I don't know what to say! Maybe I'm doing my damndest and it doesn't work! But damn it, this is not all my fault! What am I supposed to say when you're molesting me, huh? Then leaving right afterward? Who's the one running scared, _baby_? Me or you?"

Fleur let out an enraged snarl of a sound from deep within her chest, propelling it from the back of her throat. She bared her teeth and her chest heaved as she went nose to nose with Hermione.

Hermione didn't flinch. She tightened her whole body, ready to be struck, slapped, punched, anything. Her lips thinned out and her jaw locked as Fleur worked that muscle in her own. Their eyes burned with emotion as two women went toe to toe, thrall blanketing them both.

An electrical thrill went up Hermione's nervous system as she stared down this powerful, dangerous Veela.

There were only three options when it came to Veela. Love, hate, or fuck.

Love was obviously out of the question for the moment, not to say it wasn't there, just not appearing currently. The hate definitely wasn't doing it for anyone. A full out physical fight was definitely not going to happen because of the love that curiously chose to make itself so scare so often.

That left fuck. And it might have happened, too.

Hermione was on the verge of repeating the trip to Hogsmeade all over again, only in a much more public, inappropriate place and in a much more violent manner.

The brunette trembled with rage as Fleur did the same. The electric static crackled between them. They were a moment away from lunging towards each other to lock lips.

Instead, Fleur's eyes flickered away for just an instant towards the left. And then she shoved Hermione, hard.

"Look out!" someone screamed.

The brunette went sprawling as Fleur threw herself backwards just in time to avoid being smashed by the rampant bludger zooming towards them. It crashed into the stands as kids scattered, sending wood flying as the seats splintered beneath the force.

There was only a brief moment of pause before the bludger zipped back out and shot back into the air, leaving both girls shell shocked as they watched it make a long, curving arc on the wind...

And come right back at them.

More accurately, right back at Fleur.

"Shit!" Fleur muttered under her breath and took off running to her right just as the bludger wildly careened back into the stands, smashing them again. The Veela sprinted hard as everyone got the hell out of the way.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the bludger had one target, and it would go through anything and anyone to get to it.

Hermione watched as Fleur high tailed it across the stadium, the bludger chasing her, relentlessly pounding the stands in an effort to catch her.

The brunette reacted on four years of solidified, pure instinct.

"Stupefy!" she cried over the startled yelling of her peers. The spell shot off crazily, poorly aimed and caught a frightened Ravenclaw in the forehead. He collapsed, out cold.

"Oops," she breathed, wincing apologetically then quickly let it go, leaping to her feet and taking off after her mate.

"What the hell is going on!" someone shouted from behind her.

Hermione didn't care. All she cared about was the fact that her mate was seconds from being bludgeoned to death. If Fleur slowed even for an instant, the bludger would catch up, and this time it would break bone and not wood.

Hermione vowed not to let that happen.

She put every last bit of cardio and muscle strength she'd built up over the past years into this one run. She vaulted over shattered wood and frightened people, desperate to catch up. Fleur was running out of room to go to. There were no stairs on this side of the stadium, a poor building plan in Hermione's not so humble opinion.

The bludger was relentless. It zoomed forward, smashed into the stands, retreated a good ten feet back into the air and then tried again to crush into Fleur, who ran like hell. The process repeated again and again.

Hermione was determined. She had to catch them. She was gaining, but not quickly enough. Soon, though, she was close enough to pull off a half assed attempt to stop the bludger. Her aim had to be true this time. She didn't think she'd get any better chance than this.

"STUPEFY!" Hermione screamed, putting whatever magic she could summon inside her blood into the spell.

Miraculously, the Hail Mary shot struck gold. The flash of red light shot across a good thirty feet and hit the bludger square...

Doing absolutely nothing to halt its assault.

_Damn!_ Hermione mentally swore, but didn't stop running after Fleur.

Her heart pounded beneath her ribcage painfully, almost breaking the ribs. Fear and adrenaline pumped through her veins like blood, urging the girl on faster, closer.

And then Hermione's whole body went cold.

Fleur had finally run out of stadium. She was at the solid wall that ended it.

The Veela spun on her heel and for a brief moment, Hermione caught the wild look in that beautiful face, those red, red eyes. Fleur braced against the wall, eyeing the bludger and baring her fangs at it, challenging it like a true Delacour even when she was clearly at its mercy.

But the bludger had no mercy. As if sensing imminent and inevitable victory, the bludger slowly pulled back out of the stands after its most recent attempt to kill and retreated back into the air, hovering twenty feet in front of Fleur...

And five feet in front of Hermione.

The brunette had managed to catch up and as the bludger surveyed its prey for the briefest of terrifying moments, Hermione _passed_ it, sprinting like a woman possessed.

It didn't matter that they had been fighting for the past two and a half weeks. It didn't matter what indignities they'd suffered at the hands of each other. It didn't matter that just a minute before they'd been screaming their hearts out at each other.

They were mates, and mates protect each other.

Hermione lunged at the last second, eyes locked on red orbs and the fear, the ferocious, animalistic fear they held. Her body covered Fleur's, just as the bludger vaulted forward, speeding right at them.

There was no air left in Hermione's lungs to scream as the bludger smashed between her shoulder blades, cracking into bone, digging into the skin painfully. Agony sliced up the brunette's spine and melted the back of her skull into a white hot blackness.

Hermione went dark. Her hearing blew out as her knees buckled. She crumpled, not feeling the arms that wrapped around her body. Her last glimpse of the world was of ruby red flashing a bright, intensely bright blue.

_That's one_, Hermione thought and then she blissfully lost consciousness.


	17. Chapter 17

Hermione awakened. Her mind slowly became aware, conscious. Her breaths came slow, so slow. She didn't move as she came back to Earth, leaving the limbo of darkness as she tried to understand who and where she was, and why she was there.

Her eyelids fluttered uncertainly and her vision was blurred by fluorescent lighting. It sluggishly cleared as she blearily shifted around on whatever she was lying on. She blinked rapidly as she sat up, wincing. Her spine felt tender and sore, and it hurt to move. She collapsed backwards, breathing hard as she tried to take in her surroundings.

"Hermione?"

The brunette's heartbeat tripped and she looked to her right, eyes lighting up as they took in the sight of her mate, disheveled as she was.

Bright red eyes landed on chocolate ones. Ruffles of blue feathers layered Fleur's temples and her shoulders. She glowed with a sharp softness that made Hermione's chest ache.

"Fleur...? Where am I? What happened? I can't..."

It all came back in a rush. Fleur in the locker room, going at Fleur out on the Quidditch pitch, the bludger...

"The bludger! Fleur, are you alright?" Hermione sat up dizzily, and Fleur was on her feet in an instant, easing the cringing brunette back down onto what turned out to be a bed.

"Hermione, _don't move_," Fleur commanded, her voice taking on an unquestionable edge as she used one hand to gently push the younger girl back down.

Hermione swallowed hard. Instinctively, she did as she was ordered. As soon as she did, her stomach lit up with indignity. Bludger be damned, their quarrels and Veela bond remained. The brunette still felt clingy and needy, obedient and submissive in the blonde's presence, and Fleur was still being a controlling, lascivious woman with a vicious spite.

"Fleur," Hermione murmured, looking up at her mate warily. She glanced around and instantly recognized the Hospital Wing. They seemed to be the only two within it at the moment.

"Hermione," Fleur whispered, eyes painfully soft and the brunette's attention was caught immediately, as was her breath in her throat. She looked back to her mate, fighting through the confusion of returning from unconsciousness after such wild events, and the blanket of thrall that was suddenly swathing over her.

"You are so _stupid_."

And the spell was suddenly shattered. Hermione's brow furrowed and her lips pursed as Fleur glared down on her, eyes hot and narrow.

"_Excuse_ me..."

"I can't believe you...Jumping in front of that bludger with _no _regard for yourself...You can be so _asinine_, for someone so _brilliant_..." Fleur scowled down at her mate.

_Apparently, saving someone's life doesn't count for shit anymore_, Hermione thought irately.

Hermione didn't take well to backhanded compliments, either.

"What makes you think I'd want you damn near killing yourself when I don't even want you out in the cold, inappropriately dressed, huh? Don't you understand _any_thing, Hermione?" Fleur shook her head as if the brunette seriously made no sense.

_Okay. So she's expressing her concern for my safety by treating me like a child_? Hermione was not amused, or appreciative.

"Sorry for trying to protect you for once, _Mom_," Hermione spat back, submissiveness flying right out the window as Fleur's thrall provoked them both. "Where do you get off?" she added, sitting up and glaring right back at her mate.

Fleur's scowl deepened.

"You really just love to throw everything I do for you to waste, don't you?" Fleur seethed.

_Five minutes of being conscious and we're right back at it_, Hermione thought, disbelief coloring her continuing indignity. She gaped openly at her mate.

"Excuse the hell out of me for one second; are you actually claiming I don't care about you after, what did you say, 'damn near killing myself' over you?" Hermione gawked and Fleur snorted, rolling her still red eyes. The feathers had disappeared over the course of their argument and Fleur's glowing beauty had dissipated a bit, which is to say, she looked strikingly gorgeous as ever.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Fleur nearly snarled as Hermione swung both legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the wave of pain that went up her back.

"Obviously not! Seriously, Fleur! I don't know what the _fuck_ I have to do make it up to you! Never mind the fact that every time I freaked out on you, it was over _your _stupid thrall and this stupid bond, granted, I was partly to blame but _still_-"

"Let's just forget the multiple times I've saved you, too. Not to mention you've hated what we've had right from the start!" Fleur interrupted, eyes blazing. They were, once again, nose to nose.

"Exactly!" Hermione screeched, pointing a hysterical finger into Fleur's face, making red eyes narrow dangerously. "That's _exactly _my point. You're so upset because I can never show my feelings for you when I've been trying right from the start to do just that, and the one time I do, I get drilled by a bludger just to prove it to you and you're _mad _at me for it? What do you _want_, woman?"

Before Hermione realized what was happening, soft, heart shaped lips pressed to hers and she was enveloped in warmth. Fleur's hands came up to cup Hermione's face and pulled her closer. The brunette positively _melted_. Her whole body went slack and she whimpered weakly as the blond kissed her like her life depended on it.

Hermione could only part her lips and allow Fleur entrance when the blonde's silky tongue probed at them, asking permission. They swathed the insides of each other's mouths, becoming reacquainted with a gentleness that had become almost unknown to them in their absence.

And with that one kiss, everything changed.

"You," Fleur gasped as they pulled apart, moments later.

Hermione was punch drunk, dizzy and absolutely giddy. Her eyes were glazed as they parted open, her mouth still slightly ajar.

"W-what?"

Blue eyes trapped brown, and Hermione struggled to breathe. Her veins pulsed and her skin was electrically charged by her mate's touch.

"You, Hermione. I want _you_. That's all I want and god_damn _it if it kills me," Fleur breathed, their foreheads resting together.

_Um...So sorry, can't seem to find my brain at the moment..._Hermione's thoughts were ramshackle at best.

"You may hate this bond, and it may be the fault of my thrall, but I can't help it. I cherish it, Hermione, what we have. Even if it tears me and you both apart, I love it. I love _you_. I hate what it does to us, and I love it at the same time. _I'm sorry_," Fleur whispered against Hermione's lips and the brunette trembled.

"F-Fleur..."

"I'm not finished," Fleur swallowed hard and pulled back a little to gaze into Hermione's eyes. "You want to know why I was so mad at you for doing what you did?"

Hermione could only nod.

"It's because I love you more than I love myself. That's a dangerous, _dangerous _way to be when it's not the same for the other person but I can't seem to care anymore. When I did everything I did to protect you, the Grindylows, those damned mermaids, the potion, all these scars I got for you, I never wanted anything in return except _you_," Fleur went on, spilling her soul.

"And damn it if you didn't throw it all away, trying to protect me. That bludger _broke your back_, Hermione. You almost _died_. If it weren't for that woman, Madam Pomfrey..._God_..."

Hermione realized for the first time just how bad her injuries had been. A shudder went through her body as she listened to Fleur with rapt attention.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ put yourself in danger for me, you idiot...That's _my_ job..." Fleur whispered, pushing a lock of hair back behind Hermione's ear. She smiled weakly, and it was once again the beautiful, sweet, passionate Fleur Hermione had come to love so greatly.

"Shut up," Hermione breathed back and Fleur paused. "Just shut up. You say _I _don't get it? _You_ don't get it, and I guess that's my fault..."

Fleur hesitated but Hermione gave her a gleaming smile, filled with tears and understanding.

"I love you more than I love myself, Fleur. That is, without a doubt, _true_. I wouldn't have done what I did if it weren't true. You are _not_ in that dangerous place, at least not anymore. It may have been that way at first, but the Veela bond _starts_ with the Veela. Your thrall is a potent part of you and it causes us catastrophe, because it's so hell bent on making us happy that it makes us miserable by confusing the hell out of me..."

This time it was Fleur listening raptly.

"I've been reading about it, and I finally get it. Your thrall wants us to be happy, wants me to be happy so bad that it over does it and messes with my mind and my emotions till I'm so turned around I don't even know what happiness is...Well, I know it's all supposed to lead back to you, which is something your thrall desperately wants, too..."

Both Fleur and Hermione jumped, startled, when soft clapping filled the room.

"Bravo, Mademoiselle Granger. Bravo," a svelte voice rang into the air and both young women looked towards the doors that were the entrance to the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts.

Hermione's breath didn't just catch; it ceased to exist.

Standing in the doorway was _Fleur_...Only, grown up. Celestial beauty glowed about the tall, powerful woman, the _Veela_ that slowly walked, or rather, floated, into the room. The sun streaming through the windows caught every white highlight in the strips of gold woven into the woman's head.

"You are as brilliant as they say, only wrong here and there..." the woman smiled softly and Hermione's brain officially shut down.

"Maman," Fleur whispered, as if she couldn't believe it either.

Apolline Delacour, the epitome of beauty, eased into the room, blue eyes gleaming as she approached. Before Hermione realized what had happened, her lover was gone, flying across the room. Fleur's arms flew around her mother's neck with a joyous cry.

"Maman!" she repeated, burying her face into the crook of Apolline's neck. Apolline paused, arms encircling her daughter with such maternal love and affection that Hermione's heart ached jealously. She missed her own mother dearly.

"Fleur," Apolline murmured into her daughter's hair and pressed a warm kiss to the girl's temple.

Hermione could only stare in wonder, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest. The feel of more than one Delacour thrall saturating her system was enough to make her pass out.

However, as Apolline looked over her daughter's head (as amazingly she was tall enough to do so) her gentle gaze sharpened, piercing Hermione. The brunette flinched, literally flinched. Like daggers, those eyes.

"What are you doing here, Maman?" Fleur inquired slowly, pulling away from her mother to look up at her.

Apolline didn't respond, just eased her daughter aside, her demeanor changing entirely. Hermione suddenly felt like a mouse caught in the gaze of a hawk. Scratch that, she felt like a snake that had been caught in the nest of a hawk, prodding at its eggs.

"On your feet, Granger!" Apolline suddenly barked and Hermione, without thinking about it, obeyed instantly.

Dizzily, she leapt to her feet as Apolline walked up to her, towering over the diminutive fourteen year old.

"Hmph. Obedient, at least," Apolline muttered and Hermione blanched slightly when slim fingers cupped her chin and tilted it upwards, then turned her face from side to side, powerful blue eyes scrutinizing her. She was frozen, confused.

_Ahem. Brain. Any time now?_

"Maman?"

Fleur was ignored thoroughly.

"Pretty, soft features. Cheeks a bit hollow, nose a bit thin," Apolline continued to mutter to herself, but loud enough for anyone in the general vicinity to hear. She released Hermione's chin and let her eyes wander slowly down the girl's body.

"Chest, too small, probably the age but I'd want her a bit fuller her at this stage of puberty," Apolline continued and Hermione's cheeks went crimson. "Posture, excellent," she said after a moment, grudgingly.

For some reason, a little blossom of pleasure bloomed in Hermione's chest at the weak compliment.

"Maman?" Fleur repeated, approaching them, looking just as confused as Hermione.

"Hair, a bit frizzy. Glossy curls, though. Color, rich, could be better, though..."

"Mother."

"Small frame, not good for bearing grandchildren," Apolline went on, ignoring her daughter.

Hermione's cheeks burned. _Maybe I should say something. Oh, wait. I'd need my brain for that_, she thought.

"She's _fourteen_, Mom," Fleur scowled, rubbing the back of her head. "Mom!" she insisted. It was common teenager knowledge that if the parent ignored you, saying the word louder was bound to garner some sort of attention.

Not this time, though.

Hermione still, for some reason, could not move. Thrall cemented her in place when Apolline lifted her shirt up and pressed her palm flat against her tummy. The brunette spasmed, a whimper leaving her throat. Whereas Fleur's touch ignited electricity, Apolline's touch ignited fire. Warmth spread from the point of contact and Apolline let her critical gaze meet Hermione's frightened one for the first time since she'd begun her odd critiquing.

"Skin texture, smooth, supple. Acceptable. Abdomen, needs toning," Apolline continued. "Thighs as well, but overall..." She trailed off and stepped back, her powerful touch removing and letting the tautness it had invoked in Hermione's stomach muscles relax.

"She is...An acceptable mate, _physically_..." Apolline said reluctantly, her sharp eyes making Hermione feel small and pathetic.

"Mom, stop it! I can't believe you!" Fleur exploded, placing herself between her mother and Hermione. The brunette was feeling a bit swimmy at this point. The book had pointed out that bloodline connected thralls would also have an effect on a Veela's mate, and Apolline's was quite intense. It slipped over Hermione's skin, devilishly caressing her, probing her.

"It is customary for the mother to evaluate her daughter's mate," Apolline defended herself stiffly. "Especially after all I've heard about you two."

"I don't care! You can't just go molesting her to _evaluate_ her!" Fleur protested and Apolline snorted, hands on her hips now. "And please, ease off the thrall. If you were trying to intimidate her, it worked. She's gonna pass out!" Fleur scowled and Apolline huffed, rolling her eyes.

Hermione was suddenly able to breathe again as Apolline's thrall backed off.

"Excuses, excuses. You two are drowning in this relationship," Apolline snapped back and Fleur crossed her arms petulantly. "Step aside, Fleur. Your mate was on the verge of a revelation, but she's made mistakes that I need to correct before she wrecks this bond."

Fleur looked like she was going to stay defiant but one look from her mother made her shake her head and shift out from in front of Hermione slightly.

"As I was saying..." Apolline murmured silkily, eyeing Hermione with some distaste.

_What's her problem_? Hermione thought. _Oh, hey, Brain. Nice to see you again_.

"Wait just a minute!" Hermione shook her head, ridding herself of the feel of Apolline's thrall. "Who do you think you are, examining me like that?"

Hermione was such a dignified creature, deep down inside.

"Who do you think you are, speaking to your mate's mother like that?" Apolline snapped back sharply, the air crackling with her powerful presence. Hermione's lips pursed and she blushed, falling silent. Just like Fleur, Apolline could dash her bravado in moments.

"Maman," Fleur scowled reproachfully, glaring at her mother. "Stop treating her like that! Why are you even here? I thought you were back in France..."

"I was, Fleur. However, Maxime owled me about you and your actions as of late, including your mate's," Apolline responded, crossing her arms. "Needless to say, I floo'd over without hesitation. To think that you had found your mate and didn't tell me," Apolline shook her head and clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Wonder why," Fleur muttered and Hermione frowned.

"As do I," Apolline replied darkly, eyeing her daughter. "To say I'm disappointed in you would be an understatement, Fleur. I heard about how she ended up in this hospital bed," Apolline added and Fleur flinched.

Hermione was honestly at a loss at this point. She didn't know what to say or think.

BANG.

The doors to the Hospital Wing exploded open and they all turned towards them, Fleur and Hermione rolling their eyes simultaneously as they saw who it was. In came Dumbledore, Maxime, Snape, and McGonagall, the latter three arguing as always.

"Not again," Fleur muttered and Hermione glanced at her scowling mate.

Without thinking about it, Hermione reached for her lover's hand. Her heart hammered and then skipped a beat when the blond looked at her quickly, but grasped back at the slim fingers that slid between her own. They stayed that way for a moment, the sounds of sudden yelling drowning out, eyes locked together. The blond softened immensely and squeezed Hermione's hand, making the brunette blush hotly.

It seemed that they had finally knocked the stupid fight right out of their thick skulls, as the book had so eloquently put it. Their fighting was over, thankfully.

"Apolline! Have you talked sense into your daughter, yet?" Maxime cried, shouldering past McGonagall and Snape who both glared daggers at the giantess.

"I was working on it," Apolline replied airily as Hermione and Fleur turned to face the (of course) arguing adults.

"You will not put this all on my student, Maxime!" McGonagall put in quickly, and Hermione had never seen her beloved teacher so angry before.

"She got what was coming to her, if you ask me!" Maxime snarled back.

"No one _did _ask you, woman! How _dare _you-"

"Minerva."

McGonagall immediately went silent, chest heaving with outrage as Dumbledore placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

"That's quite enough, Maxime..." Apolline murmured, walking towards the large woman. "Is this how you people always handle conflict when I'm away? Yelling and screaming and making dramatic entrances?"

"Pretty much," Fleur put in bemusedly from behind her mother, a gentle hand guiding Hermione forward as they went to stand beside Apolline.

"Please, can someone just tell me what's going on since I got hit by that bloody bludger?" Hermione practically whined when all the adults just stared each other down for a long, silent moment. "I wake up and everything is chaos. Fleur and I can't take all this."

"Obviously not," Apolline snapped and Hermione flinched at the cold tone of Fleur's mother's voice. The hurt was plain on her face as she swallowed hard, falling silent. _What did I to her? Why is she treating me like this_? Hermione thought.

"Maman!" Fleur hissed and McGonagall shook her head in disgust.

"Hermione, my dear," McGonagall sighed and the brunette looked up swiftly at the sound of her first name falling from the professor's lips. "When the bludger struck you, its goal was complete. It had hit upon a target, and the curse broke. Your spine snapped on contact, and luckily Madam Pomfrey was close by as she always is during Quidditch matches. She healed you on the spot and saved you from permanent injuries. You've been unconscious for a day now, and she's done a wonderful job of fixing you up."

_Thank you, Professor_, Hermione mentally expressed her gratefulness to her teacher. At least now she had an idea of what had really happened.

"Did you ever find out who cursed the bludger?" Fleur inquired.

"No, we didn't, Ms. Delacour," McGonagall was as icy towards Fleur as Apolline was towards Hermione, which caused the Veela to frown deeply.

"I've got a pretty good idea, though!" Maxime put in. "Karkaroff, that bastard was seen sneaking around in Hogsmeade. I'll have his head for attempting to hurt my students."

"Never mind our student that he succeeded in hurting!" McGonagall screeched indignantly.

"Like I said, she pretty much deserved it!" Maxime shouted back. "How many times has Fleur risked her life to protect that ungrateful girl, hmm?"

"Now you wait just a damn minute!" Fleur yelled, taking a step towards Maxime.

"Fleur Isabelle Delacour," Apolline growled. "_Mind your place_."

A chill seemed to take the room as Apolline lowered her voice to her child.

"You mind yours! Now I get why you were so awful to her!" Fleur whirled on her mother, gesturing wildly to Hermione who was, once again, at a loss for words. "You think she deserved to get hit, too! Don't you?" Fleur accused and Apolline took a step towards her daughter, glaring down on her.

"_Fleur_."

Fleur's tilted her chin up defiantly and thrall suddenly pulsated around the two Veela. Apolline's lips were thin and they both worked the same muscles in their jaws. However, Apolline was the alpha Veela in the Delacour coven and after a few tense seconds, Fleur dropped her chin and turned her head away, submitting to her mother.

"That's enough. I expect better from you, do you hear me?" Apolline chastised, her blue eyes hard and unforgiving.

Fleur nodded reluctantly, petulantly.

"I don't think she deserved it. In fact, I'm angry at _you_ for not protecting her better, young lady. Veela are supposed to defend their mates. You nearly got yours killed," Apolline scoffed.

_Uh, bipolar much_? Hermione thought, fidgeting nervously behind the two. One second she was happy Hermione had been brained by the bludger, the next annoyed because Fleur didn't save her.

"I've _been_ protecting her," Fleur huffed back, raising her eyes back to Apolline's. "And if she hadn't gotten hit, we'd still be fighting."

"As for that matter, I was trying to explain that to you both before you all came in like a pack of rabid wolves. Really, Maxime. If I thought you ever had one thing, it would be self control," Apolline glanced at her daughter's mentor.

Maxime bristled and McGonagall rolled her eyes.

"My apologies, Apolline," Maxime murmured.

"Anyway, _you_. Granger," Apolline pointed at Hermione, making her jump slightly.

"Uh..."

She'd been relatively ignored for the past few minutes. To be suddenly addressed by Fleur's cold, calculating mother made her very nervous. She was still trying to process everything that was happening.

"Come here."

Something inside Hermione obeyed effortlessly to Apolline's every order. Hermione subconsciously suspected it was because of her Veela heritage. It didn't matter; she walked up to Apolline either way.

"You've come to understand a complicated bond almost completely. Before I...Sadly, gave into my lesser instincts to criticize you as your mate's mother, I was going to explain to you what you were missing," Apolline said with what seemed to be a hint of regret.

"The Veela thrall does, indeed, cause the emotional turmoil inside you as a desperate act to make you happy, and to love Fleur. However, it _is _Fleur. Fleur's thrall is her very essence, an entity turned almost physical by her magical blood. It is what causes the mayhem between you two," Apolline explained.

"But it is also what connects you two so tightly, down to your very cells. Each Veela thrall is attuned to one person within this world, and it is connected to your DNA, your magic, your blood, your soul. When two mates meet, the Veela thrall is not practiced enough to know better, and tends to overdo things..."

Apolline smiled here, a bit fondly at Fleur.

"It's usually not supposed to be that intense, but my little flower was always an over achiever, so desperate to please her loved ones...Her thrall is herself, in every sense of the word," Apolline continued, and Fleur bit her lip a bit guiltily, glancing at Hermione, who was listening intently.

"That's basically the gist of it, anyways," Apolline finished and Hermione paused, letting it all sink in.

"When does the thrall stop...Over doing it?" Hermione asked slowly.

"When the Tourmente period ends, and that can either be over a moment of life crisis, or sex. Yours was a crisis, sadly. You two are entering a new step in your bond at this point," Apolline replied.

Hermione hadn't got quite that far in the book. She'd had a lot on her mind.

"And that step is...?" Fleur asked for her mate.

"The Eduquer period," Apolline responded. "This is a period in the Veela bond in which the two mates become thoroughly acquainted with each other, physically, emotionally and spiritually, through, well...Bonding time. Sex, love, all of it comes together. It is a very intense, but wonderful stage for mates, whereas the Tourmente period was more just...Intense."

Hermione processed that. So the fighting, the stupid crap Fleur's thrall did to her would stop now? _Thank the gods_, she thought.

"Fleur's thrall has learned better now, and is interested more in bringing the two of you closer together, to be as your true one," Apolline finished.

"That's all well and good, Apolline, but that does not dismiss the fact that Fleur is obviously in danger here!" Maxime interrupted.

"She's in no more danger within the grounds than within your flimsy carriage!" McGonagall defended Hogwarts.

"Bah! You can't even protect your own students, Minerva!" Maxime scoffed, making the Professor see red.

"Maxime, enough," Apolline sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She turned to her daughter. "Fleur, what do you want? I could pack you into that carriage and try to keep you safe there, and then ship you back to France after the tournament, but that would only disrupt the balance of your bond with your mate."

"I want to stay with Hermione."

Fleur's response came so quickly, so resolutely that it made Hermione's heart pang with pleasure. Fleur linked their hands together, and electric tingles raced across the brunette's skin. For the first time in a long time, Hermione felt the warmth of happiness spreading in her chest. She beamed at her mate.

"I don't care how, where, or why, but I'm not leaving her," Fleur added, glaring at her mentor who shook her head.

"Very well. You will remain inside these grounds, and you _will_ win this damned tournament. We will decide what to do about you and Ms. Granger afterwards. As for who bewitched that bludger? You leave that to me and Dumbledore," Apolline smirked darkly.

A shiver went up Hermione's bruised spine. Hermione felt bad for even her worst of enemies. To attack a Veela's child was the utmost crime against them. Apolline would wreck them if she could get her hands on them.

"Now, if you all will excuse me, I told Gabriella I would spend lunch with her. Dumbledore, I will meet you in your office afterwards," Apolline nodded at the Headmaster, who had remained curiously silent throughout all of this.

"As you wish, Apolline," Dumbledore nodded back. "Snape, please escort Minerva and Madam Maxime out. I believe they've got a quarrel to settle. We can't be arguing amongst ourselves in times like these."

Snape looked decidedly furious about Dumbledore's command, but did as he was told.

McGonagall and Maxime sniffed haughtily but followed the greasy man out, and Apolline kissed her daughter's forehead warmly before exiting after them.

That left Hermione and Fleur alone with Dumbledore, who smiled pleasantly as if all that had occurred so far was minor, and nothing of consequence.

"Nobody seems contented with peace, anymore, it seems," he sighed wistfully after a long, awkward silence.

"I guess not, Professor," Hermione sighed back and Fleur squeezed her hand gently.

"Ah, well. Every good story has a happy ending. I can't see why yours shouldn't, you two. Good day," Dumbledore waved merrily at them before turning and walking out of the room, leaving them alone. It seemed nothing could bring the charming, eccentric old wizard down.

Hermione and Fleur were quiet for a long time, just staring after him and holding hands.

"Well," Fleur grinned. "That was...Interesting."

They looked at each other and smiles split their faces wide. They laughed, mostly out of relief and Hermione, before she could think about it, threw her arms around Fleur's neck and hugged her tightly.

"God, I'm sorry, Fleur. For everything," she whispered, giggling, eyes watery.

"I am, too, ma belle. I've missed you so much," Fleur breathed into the younger girl's hair, inhaling her scent deeply.

Fleur's thrall embraced Hermione, and this time, it felt like an old friend. The brunette shivered and snuggled closer to Fleur, on her tip toes to get as close as possible. Hermione tilted her chin up and hesitantly, in her usual, shy manner, placed her lips against Fleur's.

The taller girl reciprocated happily, coaxing a soft whimper from her mate when she pressed her heart shaped lips back against Hermione's with affection. They kissed slowly, softly, in a way that they hadn't kissed in a long time. Warmth and joy seemed to radiate from Hermione's pores as they held each other, bathed in each other. Their mouths morphed together, and their hearts rebounded off of one another.

There was no describing the intense relief both girls felt after officially overcoming their fight. The worry, anxiety and heart ache was gone. They were together and happy once more.

"WHAT? SHE'S AWAKE? MY PATIENT IS CONCIOUS AND NO ONE TOLD ME?"

They broke apart at the sound of frantic, agitated shouting and footsteps pounding towards them.

"Sounds like Madam Pomfrey," Hermione giggled drunkenly against Fleur's lips and the blond sniggered.

"She's got reason to be upset, I suppose. We do owe her your life, you know," Fleur replied, blue eyes lidded with pleasure as Hermione leaned into her.

"Yeah, well...I'm very grateful, but I'd rather her leave me alone. You've kissed me better, love," Hermione murmured, dreamily looking up at her shining mate, whose eyes glittered with that familiar, playful gleam.

Fleur ducked her head and placed a sweet, tantalizing kiss to the column of Hermione's throat.

"Oui, and I plan to keep kissing you for a long time, ma belle. We've got a lot of making up to do...And making out, if you want..." Fleur added slyly and then chuckled when the brunette's knees went weak.

Hermione shivered and for once, she didn't mind Fleur's thrall ruining her panties...

Well, much.

* * *

**_Maybe two or three chapters after this. I'm getting ready to wrap this up. Much love for the love, everyone. _**


	18. Chapter 18

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_**So I did have an apology for the wait here, but I would have updated about a week ago or so if not for the account problems. Oh, well. I got it fixed...Kind of. WARNING: This chapter EARNS ITS M RATING. Fillers after like two months of waiting? Why, yes. **_

* * *

_Hermione shuddered beneath wandering fingertips. Warm hands slid down the gentle slope of her back as impossibly soft, full breasts pressed between her shoulder blades. Suddenly, the easy touch became hard and painful as sharp nails dug into her supple skin._

_"I knew you'd love it from behind, ma belle..."_

_Hermione whimpered quietly and arched back into her lover, sex clenching at the raspy sound of Fleur's voice._

_"I can tell how much you want it...You want it rough and fast, don't you, Hermione? _Don't you_?" Fleur hissed in her ear and Hermione squirmed hotly, blushing furiously. _

_"Fleur..."_

_"You're so dirty, Hermione...You're a filthy, dirty girl, aren't you?"_

_"I...I..."_

_"I'm going to fuck you so hard, Hermione..."_

Hermione jolted awake as her sex gave a particularly powerful squeeze, caused by the naughty dream she'd been having. Her eyes fluttered and she blushed vibrantly when she realized that she was pressing down on Fleur's thigh, which had slipped between her legs in their overnight snuggling.

_Gods, I'm a freak_! Hermione thought, swallowing hard as she shifted around on her bed. Fleur had snuck in the night before to spend some much needed time with her lover. Ever since the bludger incident, things had been a bit hectic and they'd had so little time to spend together. It had been a week since Hermione had been able to spend so much time with Fleur.

Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and even Durmstrang had gone on a mission to find the person who cursed the bludger. Karkaroff was caught on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, but after extensive questioning and investigation, he was revealed to be innocent, much to Apolline's agitation. She very nearly cursed him anyway.

So far, no other leads were available. The person who attacked Fleur and broke Hermione's back remained a mystery. All three schools were on high alert, though.

Beyond that, it had been mostly the usual drama they had to deal with. Kids talking, teachers talking, everybody talking. Rita Skeeter had worked her dark magic and via newspaper, the whole wizarding world seemed to know about Fleur Delacour, daughter of one of the most prominent Veela covens around, was dating one of the golden trio. She was dating one of the brightest witches of the age, Hermione Granger.

People were delighted, disgusted, scandalized and mesmerized. Hermione wished they'd really just sod off and keep out of their relationship. Still, this Triwizard Tournament was one of the most popular to ever have come around, considering there was four champions, one being Harry Potter, another being Fleur Delacour, who was dating Harry Potter's best friend.

People loved it.

Hermione had also had to run some damage control with Fleur's little sister, Gabriella. The girl harbored a deep jealous hate against Hermione. The little girl seemed to take quite a bit of offense that she had not been Fleur's person in the second task, and the fact that she had lost her older sister's attention lately.

After many ice creams, special charms and several kicks in the shin, Hermione won over Gabriella. Fleur was quite pleased with this.

Now, it was the day of the third task. It was early morning, but the girl's room had already cleared out as everybody was probably down having breakfast. This left Hermione and Fleur as the only ones left in the room, cuddled up as close as they could possibly get.

Hermione shivered when Fleur grunted sleepily and burrowed into the brunette's neck, snuggling closer. "G'morning, ma belle," she mumbled and kissed Hermione's neck gently. The younger girl quivered, her arousal still pulsing at the apex of her thighs.

Hermione had been increasingly hornier throughout the week. Now that the Tourmente period had ended, there was nothing keeping her body from responding to Fleur's presence. She constantly ached for Fleur's touch and basked in it whenever she could get it. And that dream she'd been having was only one of many as of late.

They'd done some pretty heavy snogging the night before, and Hermione knew she had a hickey in the hollow of her collarbone roughly the size of a quarter. Remembering how hot Fleur's tongue felt against her own, how amazing it felt to feel Fleur gently rocking her hips between her legs had Hermione squirming again. Hermione knew she wanted more from Fleur, but was too shy to ever act on such a lewd desire.

"Morning, Fleur," Hermione rasped back, then coughed abruptly to clear her throat.

"Hermione," Fleur murmured and the brunette squeaked as the blond suddenly rolled them over, so that the taller girl was on top of Hermione. Fleur rested there, and Hermione swallowed hard as she felt moist, heart shaped lips moving along her throat.

"F-Fleur?"

"You were dreaming deeply throughout the night, ma belle," Fleur whispered and Hermione trembled as she felt the blond grinning into her skin.

"I...Yeah..." Hermione breathed back as Fleur leaned up on her elbows, working her lips along the underside of the brunette's chin.

"What were you dreaming about?" Fleur inquired in a sultry sort of voice, nipping playfully at Hermione's neck.

"..." Hermione didn't respond. Somehow, she knew Fleur already knew the answer to that question.

"You kept moaning and pushing closer to me, Hermione...I thought you were having nightmares," Fleur said nonchalantly as she softly sucked a sensitive patch of skin between her lips, drawing a whimper from the brunette.

Fleur's tone confirmed Hermione's suspicions.

"You kept breathing my name like a prayer, and then you pressed down on my thigh, and I realized, no, it couldn't possibly be nightmares..."

Yep, she definitely knew.

Fleur's voice was enough to make Hermione's whole body tremble with yearning. The blonde's thrall throbbed in the air, and electric tingles raced across Hermione's nerve endings.

"_I felt your heat_, Hermione. Do you know what that does to me, to the Veela, the predator inside me? When you're so close and so _hungry_? All night, you kept whimpering, keeping me awake..."

A spasm racked Hermione's body and she felt like she'd fallen into one of her wet dreams, one of the ones where Fleur talked to her as she ravished her body.

"I..I'm...I didn't mean to...Keep you up..." Hermione could barely even speak. She couldn't believe how turned on she was. "I'm sorry...I d-don't mean to...To think i-in such an inappropriate way...I..."

Fleur's soft laughter made Hermione's ears burn red as sweet breath tickled her throat. Fleur's body felt heavy and warm on top of the brunette's, and she felt a change in her blond lover.

"Don't apologize, ma belle...Don't _ever_ feel badly for wanting me...You _do_ want me, don't you?" Fleur whispered and lifted her head from the crook of the brunette's neck.

When their eyes connected, a quiet gasp spilled from Hermione's lips. Fleur's bright, cerulean orbs were now a dark, burning midnight blue. A gleam twinkled in them from the sunlight pouring in through the windows. Her silvery gold hair was pooled around her shoulders in a halo.

The lust Fleur obviously held made Hermione's back arch slightly.

She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

She could only give the slightest nod as her chest stayed painfully still.

Fleur broke out in a smirk, one that would have put Hermione off if it had been anyone else. But seeing as how it was Fleur, it only made her hips shift.

"Are you sure, Hermione? Absolutely sure that you want me?" Fleur's question held a double meaning that Hermione caught onto easily. What Fleur was really asking was if Hermione wanted to have sex, if she wanted to be touched in the most intimate of ways.

And Hermione did. So much. But now? So suddenly? They'd only just awakened. Hermione supposed it had something to do with Veela thrall. Or something like that. She couldn't think very well at that moment.

"F-Fleur..."

Fleur's eyes softened almost imperceptibly, pure lust melting into a lover's stare of need. The air around them crackled and Hermione, under that intense, powerful stare, came alive. Like the day they'd met at Rosemary's tavern, Fleur sparked the fire inside Hermione's chest, the challenger. The proud lion that usually lay dormant lifted its head and roared, and suddenly, all Hermione's fear, shyness, and doubts dissipated.

She matched Fleur's smirk, making the blonde's eyebrow arc inquisitively, playfully.

"Make love to me, Fleur."

"With pleasure, ma belle," Fleur replied and darted her head forward, capturing Hermione's lips in a searing kiss as Veela thrall exploded outwards, igniting them both.

Hermione moaned instantly, surging up to meet Fleur with passion. Their tongues entwined and became one as Fleur lifted up enough so that she could touch Hermione with her hands. It wasn't slow, it wasn't sweet or gentle. It was fiery, explosive, and almost desperate.

And Hermione loved it.

They had waited too long for this. They had worked hard to get this close, and taking things slowly just didn't seem to be what either of them wanted. Fleur's thrall certainly didn't help matters. It only made their movements more frantic.

Fleur's hands shoved the ribbed white tank top Hermione had donned the night before up and she situated her curvaceous hips between Hermione's, beginning a hard, deep rocking motion that made Hermione moan loudly.

Warm palms snaked along the brunette's ribcage, over her abdomen, massaging and stroking tanned skin. Hermione shuddered and ran her hands down Fleur's back, over the black t-shirt and down to her lovely, shapely ass. She got a good grip and Fleur growled into her mouth. Hermione only moaned again as she squeezed, coaxing Fleur to keep rocking just like that.

_Fuck, this feels so good_, Hermione thought, throwing her head back as Fleur went back at her neck, sucking hotly on the place that bobbed every time Hermione swallowed.

"Oh, God," Fleur suddenly shuddered, scratching her nails lightly along Hermione's clenching abdomen. "I can smell you, Hermione. I can fucking smell you, and you smell so good," Fleur groaned and Hermione blushed vibrantly. Veela were known talkers during love making, but Hermione had never imagined it would turn her on so much.

Static electricity danced across Hermione's body as Fleur's thrall embraced her tightly. Strong hands pushed Hermione's tank top up over her chest, rapidly slipping it over the brunette's head. Hermione's breasts were exposed to the cool morning air. She supposed she should have been embarrassed, but when Fleur slid down, laying wet, hot kisses around them before sucking her left nipple into her mouth, she couldn't seem to care.

It wasn't like that time in the common room, when Hermione's brain had been saturated in a thrall that was quite frankly, over doing it way too much. It wasn't a cacophony of emotions that made anxiety swell in waves within Hermione's chest. It wasn't like their first time, which had been slow, gentle and sweet.

It was so much more. They _needed_ this.

"_Fuck_," Hermione swore without thinking about it as Fleur massaged her right breast almost painfully hard, tweaking the sensitive bud with her nails as she sucked hard on the left one. Fleur snarled at the curse, and Hermione remembered how sexy the blond seemed to think the brunette was when she cussed.

Hermione moaned loudly again, bucking her hips. After Fleur had pampered her breasts for a good minute, the brunette needed more. She couldn't stand it.

"Shirt, off," Hermione demanded, panting as she pushed Fleur up and jerked on her shirt desperately. She needed to see Fleur this time. She had to see those full, bouncy breasts again, touch them, press against them.

"God, yes mam," Fleur breathed, incredibly turned on by the throaty quality of her lover's voice.

Hermione blushed at that but then Fleur's shirt was flying through the air, and those perfect breasts were calling for attention. However, Fleur wasn't having it. She pressed her whole body down on Hermione's and a soft cry was released from the younger girl's mouth.

"I'm on top, ma belle. Remember that," Fleur hissed as she claimed the smaller girl's mouth, kissing her heatedly. Hermione moaned back and writhed beneath Fleur as the blond pinned her wrists above her head.

"Let me show you what a Veela can _really_ do. I think you're gonna like this, 'Ermione," Fleur grinned, accent peaking out, eyes twinkling mischievously before she began kissing a swift path down Hermione's body.

Hermione shuddered as heart shaped lips and a slick tongue pressed to her belly button, giving it some attention for a moment before long, slender fingers slipped under the waistband of her shorts and underwear.

There was no time to panic or over think things. Hermione was positively drunk on Fleur and couldn't second guess anything at all.

Her shorts and panties were yanked down without hesitation and tossed carelessly away. Fleur glanced up long enough to wink at a bright red Hermione, before she dove into a glistening sex, her tongue leading the way.

"F-Fleur!" Hermione cried out sharply. Fleur's thrall hyper attuned every nerve ending between Hermione's legs to the feel of her lover's tongue, which slid up her whole length, bathing her sex. Hermione's thighs closed instantly to alleviate a bit of the intense ache this caused, trapping Fleur's head. Her hands went down to wrap in silky blond locks.

Fleur giggled and then groaned as soft thighs closed around her head. Her tongue flickered across a swollen little button and shudders rocked Hermione's body. Fleur growled; she had to have more of this, of Hermione's perfection.

She leaned up and back a little, wrapping her arms around Hermione's waist as her tongue swathed the brunette's entrance, lapping away at Hermione's every defense. This lifted Hermione off the bed and made her extremely vulnerable to Fleur's ministrations.

Hermione was in heaven. Her skull pounded and throbbed. Her breath came in short, spastic bursts. Fleur played her like an instrument, and her body sang as they made music. Nothing had ever been quite so perfect as this. Passionate, intense, _perfect_.

And Fleur was right. Hermione liked this. A lot.

When Hermione was sure Fleur was going to lick her heated sex until it melted with pleasure, the blonde placed her back down on the bed and kissed her hips, her pelvic bone, and slid three fingers within her grasping depths.

Hermione cried out again, but Fleur's mouth was suddenly on hers, and they were kissing hungrily, deeply. Hermione's slick insides held onto Fleur with everything they had and the brunette dug her nails in between Fleur's shoulder blades.

An intense need to touch overwhelmed the brunette as every short, hard thrust of Fleur's fingers made her dizzier and dizzier. She slid her right hand down between them, into Fleur's underwear and began to fumble with the girl's soft heat.

Fleur moaned and pressed closer as her fingers curved, drawing Hermione higher. Affection and need pulsed in Hermione's chest as her core began to overheat. Just as Hermione desperately managed to get inside the most beautiful heat she'd ever felt, Fleur touched her just right.

Hermione was gone.

"Fleur!" she gasped, arching up, up, and away. Spasms claimed her whole body and she raked her nails down the Veela's back as she sank her teeth into the blonde's shoulder. It was too intense, too incredible. Hermione gave a little sob of ecstasy as Fleur's thrall exploded around them in rapture. She heard Fleur give her own cry and hoped she hadn't hurt the other girl.

She felt the heat surrounding her fingers grasping, spasming and her skull was filled with pleasure, love, and release.

Everything they'd ever gone through had just been given a purpose, solidity, and all their pain and negative feelings had just been relieved, washed away. It was, quite possibly, the best thing Hermione had ever experienced.

It was too bad she passed out and couldn't enjoy it for a little longer.

* * *

When Hermione regained consciousness, the first thing she became aware of was the fact that she was floating, and that Fleur was sprawled out next to her, breathing heavily.

"Did I just..."

"Oui."

They glanced at each other and then began to giggle wildly, posit coital highs bringing insane smiles to their faces. Hermione was soon laughing fully as she rolled on top of Fleur and kissed her sweetly.

"Gods, Fleur, that was..."

"Amazing? Awesome? Incredible? I know, I'm good," Fleur smirked playfully, and Hermione snorted.

"Egomaniac," she rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway.

"I'm kidding, kidding!" Fleur laughed, her eyes lidded and looking a bit hazy. "But really, was zat okay for you? Did I 'urt you at all, 'Ermione?" Fleur asked softly, gently rubbing Hermione's back, her accent fully out for obvious reasons.

"That was perfect, Fleur. And it was all those things. You _are_ good. You're great. You're more than great. You're..."

Fleur cut off Hermione's babbling with another giggle.

"'Ermione, stop. You're going to give me a bigger 'ead than I already 'ave," she chuckled, pushing a stray lock of hair behind the brunette's ear.

"Oh, right. Sorry," Hermione blushed sheepishly. "W-was that...Was that okay for you, too?"

Now that Hermione's roaring lion had been sated, she was, once again, a shy kitten searching uncertainly for affection.

"Do you know what a supernova is, 'Ermione?"

Fleur's question caught Hermione off guard, but she answered anyway.

"Yes?"

"It was like that, only ten times brighter, stronger, and more powerful. Ze French call an orgasm ze 'Little Death', but zat was anything but little. If an orgasm is a death, zat was like a star dying."

Hermione melted. Fleur's prosaic praise was enough to make the younger girl feel on top of the world.

"Fleur."

"Oui?"

"I love you."

Fleur brushed their noses together and kissed Hermione softly.

"Je taime, ma belle. Je taime."

"We should probably get cleaned up before people start coming up here..."

"Oui, probably."

"You want to shower together?"

"Oui."

"Can we...In the shower?"

"Most definitely."

* * *

Hours later, as night was slowly beginning to fall, the two mates made their way down to the Quidditch pitch, which had been transformed into a magnificent maze. Hermione kissed her lover one last time as Fleur turned and began to walk towards Maxime at her starting place.

The brunette had never felt so happy in her entire life.

The crowd was roaring and the band was playing merrily. Hermione couldn't stop smiling. Somehow, she knew Fleur would do well. Still, there was a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that she couldn't quite place.

She trotted up the stands to Ron after waving brightly to Harry who nodded, looking grim. He always got so serious at the beginning of a task.

Apolline was sitting close by, near the Veela coven.

"HERMIONE!"

"Elle est la!"

At the sight of Hermione, the coven erupted with joyous cries.

"Crap," Hermione had time to mutter before she was engulfed.

They pinched her cheeks, kissed her face, hugged her and passed her around like a toy. Hermione was blushing so hard as they cooed and congratulated her on making love to Fleur. Needless to say, Hermione was extremely uncomfortable, and wasn't surprised that they knew.

They only let up when the cannon went off (prematurely, of course), signaling the start of the third task.

Hermione turned around just in time to see Fleur disappearing into the maze at a dead sprint, and that sight made the nagging feeling intensify. Hermione suddenly realized what the feeling was; it was the instinct she had felt so often throughout her life with Harry Potter.

Somehow, Hermione felt like something awful was going to happen, and she couldn't shake the feeling that it was going to happen to Fleur.


	19. Chapter 19

Less than fifteen steps into the maze, all the happiness left Fleur's world as a Dementor exploded out of the hedges, dark cloak billowing menacingly behind it.

"Mon dieu!" she yelped, staggering back as the world went cold. Her breath came in harsh pants. _What a way to start a task_, Fleur thought as the Dementor bore down on her, actually backing her almost back to the entrance of the maze.

It loomed over her, breathing in the sudden rush of despair and fear that overwhelmed the young Veela. However, her magical blood gave her a defense as the blonde's thrall wrapped around her like a shield, warming the girl enough so that she could think beyond the sudden misery.

"You wanna play, bad boy?" Fleur couldn't stop the wobbly smirk that came to her lips. She was a Delacour, after all. It was in her nature to be competitive, even in the face of danger. _Especially_ in the face of danger.

"Let's play. _Expecto Patronum_!" Fleur cried, whipping her wand forward, the tip extended towards the Dementor like a sword.

A beautiful, powerful horse like creature exploded from the tip in a blast of blinding white light. A Unicorn with a razor sharp horn galloped forward, mystical light spearing through the now panicked Dementor. It made an odd noise and flew back, rapidly retreating as the creature chased it down, snorting a challenge.

The Dementor fled and Fleur could hear loud cheering as warmth returned to her body. She realized she was pretty much still in plain sight of the stadium. _I'm wasting time. The others are already deeper into the maze and I went in first_, Fleur realized.

Her Patronus threw its head back haughtily, stomping its feet aggressively as the Dementor fled, disappearing far into the maze. The Unicorn's chords of muscles rippled with white light before it dissolved away, having done its job. Fleur didn't stop to give it a thankful gaze as she usually did when she summoned it, having been taught how to do it by her mother when she was fifteen. Back then, the Unicorn had been a foal (a cocky foal, but a foal nonetheless). Now it was a daunting mare, frightening off even the most fearsome of Dementors.

Fleur took off into the maze, wand at the ready. Her plan of action was to stick to the right. Keeping hanging in one direction and you had to eventually get to the middle.

At least, in theory.

* * *

"Christ, Fleur! Kill it!" Hermione screamed as the coven cheered their fellow Veela on. The brunette was on her feet and yelling like a mad woman when the Dementor attacked. Relief flooded her chest as her mate cast an intense Patronus charm that awed and delighted the roaring crowd.

"Gods," Hermione muttered, putting a hand to her chest, which ached from the pounding her heart had given it. I shouldn't doubt her. Fleur's good. No, she's brilliant, Hermione thought.

The coven giggled and nudged the overreacting Fourth Year who blushed and grinned, embarrassed. Apolline sat calmly, unperturbed by the close encounter.

"Are you not worried for her?" Hermione turned to the blond, a bit breathless and flushed.

"If my daughter cannot take on a simple Dementor, she doesn't deserve to win," Apolline shrugged, arms crossed as she reclined in her seat, one of the few seated in the stadium. Hermione thought that was a bit harsh, and Apolline seemed to notice.

"You haven't noticed, have you? The Delacour coven is known for our desire to be the best. I have trained her well, young girl. Don't second guess my daughter. She'll put any monster on its ass, and if she doesn't, she'll make damn sure its victory wasn't worth it," Apolline said with such blatant confidence it was hard to contradict her.

Besides, Hermione had seen her lover in action many times. Fleur had speed, aggression, strategy, and more importantly _common sense_. Fleur wasn't stupid, and she didn't panic. She was calm, cool, and collected.

Hermione grinned, realizing she was having too little faith in her mate.

"Alright! Let's go, Fleur!" Hermione screamed. "And Harry!" she added a bit guiltily. She honestly just wanted them both to come out alive.

But that nagging feeling just wouldn't go away...

* * *

"This is fucking stupid," Fleur muttered as she ran right into another dead end. She'd met no resistance, but she'd been pissing around in these damn hedges for at least five or so minutes, wasting her breath and getting nowhere.

Suddenly, a crackling noise, the sound of approaching footsteps met Fleur's ears from behind. She whipped around, wand up. Something staggered around the corner of the turn Fleur had come from.

"_F-Fleur_!"

It was Hermione. But it wasn't. Fleur's heart dropped to her stomach and her throat closed.

"Hermione!" Fleur gasped, rushing forward as a ragged cough claimed her gored lover. Blood spilled from between busted lips as gashes on her temple and arms poured even more of the disturbing red liquid onto the ground. The brunette's left leg was twisted at an awkward angle, and her right eye was swollen shut. Her hair was matted and singed in many places.

Hermione fell to her knees.

"T-there w-was an a-a-accident a-at-" Another bloody cough as Fleur caught Hermione in her arms, "The stadium...G-gone...Everybody...Gone..."

Fleur couldn't breathe. Everything inside her rebelled. This couldn't be true. It had to be a lie. No. No. _No_. Everybody? Gabriella? Her mother? Her coven? All the friends she'd made, the innocent young people? The innocent old people?

And Hermione looked like she was about to follow them as wet, wracking coughs took her body.

"No," Fleur whispered. "There's no way...I'd have heard the commotion...Hermione..."

"Fleur," Hermione whimpered and the Veela paused, her horror being replaced with confusion, and then realization.

Disgust welled in her chest and pooled in her mouth, becoming venom that she spat out in the form of a spell as she leapt up and brought her wand to bare.

"Riddikulus!" she snarled, her wand zapping the horrid Boggart square in the face, her assumption as to the true nature of the creature turning out to be true.

The image of her broken, dying lover was suddenly a sweet puppy chasing its tail in circles, yapping loudly the whole while.

"You're a piss poor excuse for a Boggart, you little shit..." she snorted, eyeing it warily as she began to circle around it to keep going. "My girlfriend's got a _very_ sexy British accent, and my name does not sound like that when it rolls off her lips."

As Fleur turned and bolted down a long row of hedges, leaving the puppy behind, she supposed she should have noticed it sooner but the sight of Hermione, torn to bits like that had prevented her from thinking clearly.

"On your toes, Fleur," she breathed to herself as she hooked left; thinking right had given her nothing but crap so far. Her mother would be sorely disappointed by how much time Fleur was spending on trivial obstacles, and how little progress the Veela had made so far.

It was time to make up for that. Fleur put it in gear and got her game face on. No smirk, no cocky taunts in her head.

Fleur Delacour was ready to roll.

* * *

Hermione couldn't contain the anxiety butterflies in her stomach. It had been twenty minutes since the start of the third task, and she was starting to lose it. The feeling was getting worse and worse, and Hermione just couldn't stop thinking Fleur was in grave danger.

"Come on, Fleur...Get the hell out of there..."

* * *

Ten minutes passed and Fleur was becoming increasingly exasperated. The Boggart had grated on her nerves in a bad sort of way and the Dementor had already shaken her up the instant she'd stepped into this wretched maze.

She rounded the corner of yet another turn and halted immediately. There was a small hallway of hedges, and then an indention into them, in which a full body mirror was standing in.

Creepy, was the first thought that came to Fleur's mind.

The mirror was plain, except for the faint red markings in its black frame. The glass eerily reflected Fleur's haggard appearance back at her.

In hindsight, Fleur probably should have just booked it and left the object alone, but...She didn't. She was inexplicably drawn to the odd, random mirror. She took a few steps towards it, uncertain.

And then her reflection smiled.

Fleur wasn't smiling.

_I'm not smiling_, Fleur thought, her stomach clenching with a sudden burst of fear. This was just too creepy.

"Wonder why?" Her reflection giggled, her malicious, frightening smile twisting further.

_Ah, hell. It talks_. The Veela tightened her grip on her wand. _And moves. Ah_, hell.

Fleur's reflection stepped out from the mirror which rippled like molten, melting glass before solidifying again as the other Fleur freed herself.

"I'm really glad zat you finally came my way. Our way," the reflection sniggered, sounding just like the original. It was walking forward with slow, determined steps.

The real Fleur realized that the other Fleur also had a wand. Great.

"Why is that?" The real Fleur questioned, deciding playing along was the best idea. No point in asking an obvious curse what it was. Just how to get rid of it. The other Fleur was obviously darker, and carried the aura of evil around her.

And her eyes were red. Veela red.

"To let you know just what the fuck is up with my mate," Red eyed Fleur sneered, her accent thick and harsh, unlike Blue Eyed Fleur's lilting accent.

"Oh, yeah?" Blue Eyed Fleur arched a brow at the other.

_She's obviously me in some way_, Fleur thought, eyeing the still approaching reflection warily.

"Yeah. You know what I am right? Who I am?"

"Me, I suppose, in some sense of the word..."

Show no fear. That was good.

"In every sense of the word, you idiot. I'm the part of you that Hermione really loves and you know it," Red Eyed Fleur smirked, and Blue Eyed Fleur finally understood.

"You're the dark part of me, aren't you?"

"Goddamn right I am," Red Eyed Fleur snorted, putting one hand on her hip.

"I don't understand..."

"Of course you don't. Let me spell it out for you. Ya know when you and 'er were fucking zis morning? I'm ze one zat was whispering all ze naughty zings in 'er ear, making her squirm. You remember when you two were fighting and I got control of zis body? Mm? I'm ze one zat 'ad 'er practically on 'er knees in ze locker room. I'm ze one zat really gets 'er going," Red Eyed Fleur sneered.

Blue Eyed Fleur was scowling at this point.

"And you don't really love her. You don't turn her on. Our thrall does. If you knew her at all, you'd know she'd a proud girl who hates being controlled," the real Fleur spat back.

"Oh, I love her, alright. I love ze way she whimpers and moans. I love ze way I can make her my bitch with ze snap of my fingers..."

Blue Eyed Fleur shook her head, and then laughed.

"Technically, you're _my_ bitch. You will never have control of me anymore. You're a part of me, that's for sure. And you'll always be a part of me. But I am in control. Me. The good me. You're pathetic and shallow and worthless. You just think you're all that, but you're absolutely weak," Blue Eyed Fleur stated quite matter-of-factly.

The reflected Fleur glared.

"You need me," Red Eyed Fleur glowered. "She never reacted zat way as she did in ze locker room with you. Only me."

"Agreed. But this morning? That was way more intense, and that was all me; you can bet on that," Blue Eyed Fleur had had enough. She began to walk forward getting all in her own face (which greatly confused her). Red Eyed Fleur, looking startled began to rapidly backpedal as the real Fleur kept coming.

"I can talk dirty to her all on my own and she loves it. But I can also whisper sweet nothings in her ear. You don't love, you _lust_ and I don't need you. I can't get rid of you because nobody can be all good but I _will _control you because I'm _better_ than you," The real Fleur's eyes were charged and she was breathing in lighting.

"I love her. And I will protect her from myself till the end of time. Now get back in your mirror before I decide if killing you really is a form of suicide."

Red Eyed Fleur stumbled over the frame of the mirror/portal she'd come from and yelped as she fell back into it, hateful eyes dissipating with the rest of her body, and then the mirror was really just a mirror again.

Not even Fleur could bully herself.

Fleur's taut body posture went lax. Her nerves were horribly frazzled. And she was still wasting time. So much time. She had to win. The thought of losing at this point angered her. She'd come through too much not to win this freaking tournament.

She turned and came face to face with Viktor Krum, whose eyes were a milky white.

_Huh_? Fleur wondered, too shocked to do anything as a wand was pointed in her face.

"Get down!" Harry Potter screamed as he came flying around the corner, struggling to catch up them. "He's bewitched, Fleur! Go!" the boy shouted and Fleur broke into action as Krum's lips curled back in a feral snarl, prepared to curse.

She socked him square in the jaw so fast he never saw it coming. He dropped like a rock as Fleur crouched into a battle position, Veela blood coursing through her veins, along with an incredible amount of adrenaline.

"Jesus," Harry muttered as Fleur's jaw clenched. She slowly, ever so slowly stood upright and watching the unconscious Krum the whole time, walked over to Harry.

"Bewitched? By who?" Fleur inquired as they backed out of the mirror hedgeway.

"I dunno, but he got Cedric with a pretty bad stunning spell..."

Harry had no sooner finished his sentence when a soft, lovely blue glow filled the world, coming from their right. Both Champions looked up in confusion, to their right down the pathway that had once ended in a left or right turn.

The hedges peeled back and...

There was the Triwizard Cup.

They stared in awe, but then the sound of ripping, roiling vegetation met their ears. They glanced behind themselves and saw the maze coming alive, vines and leaves boiling as it began to close in.

Harry glanced at Fleur.

Fleur glanced at Harry.

They both bolted for the Cup, full on sprinting for the pulsing thing. The maze closed in faster.

Harry tripped, stumbled and nearly fell. Fleur could have let him fall and be engulfed by the attacking maze, but her heart wouldn't allow it. She caught him and yanked him onward, her magical blood making her temples sprout feathers as she ran like hell.

Harry vaulted forward again but the pause put him too close to the vegetation. She realized as she began to reach the Cup that he would never make it.

Fleur turned; hesitated. She was so close to winning. She could let him fall. She could win. Fleur could win it all. She didn't know what to do. He'd probably be okay, right? Right?

Fleur couldn't think.

So instead she lifted her wand and shot a powerful spell over Harry's shoulder.

The maze exploded in fiery, squealing flames, repelled by the vicious grenade launching wand as Harry, breathing hard, made it to the clearing, panting violently.

"When in doubt, blow shit up," Fleur shrugged as she quoted her mother and he gave her an incredulous but grateful look.

"Good idea," he grunted. "I thought you were going to let it get me for a minute..."

"For a minute there, so did I..." Fleur replied softly.

They locked eyes, before both turned to the magnificent cup.

"Take it," Harry said after a moment.

Fleur glanced at him. "You know I can't do that."

"You saved me, Fleur. Take it."

"You saved me from Krum."

"Not hardly! I just yelled and you sort of Veela'd out on the bloke. Take the damn thing, I didn't even ask to be in this tournament. I don't need or really want it, Fleur. Go on.."

Fleur glanced at the young man before her, the generous guy Harry really was.

"We'll both take it then. Together," she replied and he paused, before nodding in agreement.

"On three, alright?"

"Yeah."

"One, two, three..."

They both grasped a handle, and a hook yanked behind Fleur's nostrils as the disguised Portkey ripped her into oblivion alongside the Boy Who Lived.

* * *

Hermione blanched as the feeling that had been plaguing her intensified.

"Fleur," she whispered to the wind, eyes locked on the maze.

* * *

Fleur winced as she crashed into solid earth, the cup being torn from her grasp by gravity's call. Harry smashed down next to her and they rolled a foot or so before going still.

"It was a Portkey?" Harry gasped as they both struggled to their feet and looked around, trying to get their bearings.

"Weird...I really don't think that was supposed to happen, Harry...Harry?"

The boy wasn't looking at her. He was staring at a grim looking statue of the Reaper with a scythe held across its chest.

"Fleur...We have to get out of here. Now," Harry breathed, eyes widening in utter terror.

"What? Why?" Fleur didn't get it. What was his deal?

They both turned at the sound of grass crunching beneath heavy footsteps. A figure was approaching. He was holding something out before him.

"Get to the Portkey, Fleur! GO, now!" Harry screamed.

"_Kill the spare_," an ungodly, unearthly voice hissed from nowhere discernable.

Fleur's instincts screamed for her to run.

She tried to get her wand up, but it was too late.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" bellowed the figure, green light flashing from his wand.

"No!" Harry cried.

The killing curse struck Fleur Delacour square in the chest, knocking her flat on her back as the light left her eyes.


	20. Chapter 20

**_Just as I actually get a chapter written in good time and am prepared to post it up, my internet goes down. Before it could be repaired, my area got wrecked by tornadoes. No power for a week. Finally got it back. I'm thankful, though, because that was the worst of my problems. At least I survived with no damage to my home. Can't say the rest for everybody else, sadly. I feel for those that did get hit. I managed to fix my internet tonight. Apologies for the wait, but here it is. Next chapter should be the last. _**

* * *

Fleur's heartbeat fluttered and then stopped completely. The world was quiet, dark, and peaceful in this limbo...But only for a moment.

Her heart gave a sharp kick and the blond gasped as her eyes flew open just in time to see the flash of green light rebound off her chest and slam back into its caster. She yelped in pain and rolled over quickly, grasping at the place just beneath the hollow of her collarbone.

"Fleur!" Harry cried and stumbled over to the heaving blond as that ungodly voice let out a disturbing wail.

"_No! NO! You filthy rat, get up! GET UP_!" the dismembered voice roared as Fleur winced in agony.

"Mon dieu," Fleur breathed as the searing pain slowly began to lessen and she struggled to get off her elbows and sit up properly. Her head was pounding and she was having a bit of trouble breathing.

"F-Fleur? You're alive?" Harry gaped as he fell to his knees next to the cringing Veela, disbelief coloring his voice.

_Barely_, the blond thought, coughing hard as she rubbed the aching spot on her chest.

"Seems so..." Fleur croaked back to the trembling boy.

"How? That was the killing curse...There's no way..." Harry couldn't get his mind around it, and Fleur was simply trying to pretend like it hadn't happened for the moment.

Slowly, her breathing evened out and she sat back on her heels, grasping her wand tighter in her hand. The pain had faded to a dull twinge, like the memory of the curse was engraved into her skin. Only then did the young woman begin to process what had happened.

_Did I seriously just get hit with the killing curse...And live? What the hell is going on? And the cup was a Portkey? Something's seriously wrong here,_ Fleur thought, glancing at Harry, who seemed to be silently crying. Her heart twitched at the sight. Harry really was a good guy. The sight of Fleur being hit by that green light must have really shaken him up.

"Hey...Harry...I'm okay...Really..." Fleur murmured, putting a hand on his shoulder. He nodded, swallowing hard, emerald eyes shining.

"I know...It's just...I couldn't bear to see someone else die in front of me...While I couldn't do anything about it," he replied in a soft, broken kind of voice.

"I'm fine. It'll take more than a little killing curse to take me out," Fleur gave him a shaky grin with false bravado, and Harry chuckled.

_That's right, Fleur. Just shake it off. That was nothing. I mean, it's not like you're the second person to ever survive that curse or anything. Tch, who am I kidding? I'm lucky as fuck_, Fleur thought, trying to pretend like she wasn't a shaken as she really was.

"Yeah, just a little killing curse...Jesus, are you sure you're alright?" Harry ran a hand through his messy raven locks.

"Pretty sure. I think I'm doing about as well as I can be after that," Fleur replied softly, rubbing at the sore spot on her chest.

"Whoa, check that out!" Harry breathed, pointing to Fleur's chest.

The blond raised an eyebrow and then glanced down, her lips parting in surprise at the sight before her. A jagged line of a scar was placed just beneath the hollow of her collarbone; a dark lightning bolt etched into her flesh.

Fleur made a noncommittal noise. Yet another scar. Her thrall pulsed with anxiety. She inhaled and then exhaled deeply, shrugging it off. Now was not the time to dwell on this.

"Ah, that's interesting and all, but I think we've got bigger problems, Harry," Fleur murmured as she suddenly remembered just how that scar had come to be and stood up slowly, turning to face the spot where her assailant had fallen. Harry followed suit, and they both quietly raised their wands.

"I think he's dead," Harry mumbled as they hesitantly moved forward. "The curse...It came back at him..."

Fleur nodded. But that voice, that wicked, wicked voice...Where had it come from? Who was it? Why was it even here? Why had they been transported to this hellish graveyard? This surely wasn't part of the tournament. Firing the killing curse upon the champions had to violate the tournament rules...Didn't it?

"_Of course he's dead, you fools...Damn you...That protection...How, Veela? How did you acquire it? You've ruined _everything AGAIN_! DAMN YOU_!" The voice screamed, scratchy and infuriated, coming from somewhere around the fallen body.

Fleur's heartbeat stuttered and she yelped as she felt a sudden invasion into her skull, a prying, violating assault on her very _soul_. She staggered and fell to her knees, grasping at her head.

"Fleur!" Harry cried, having no idea what was going on.

"_Tell me, you worthless whore...Tell Lord Voldemort all of your darkest secrets..._"

Fleur snarled in agony as her skin began to fizzle in rebellion.

_Oh, no _freaking way_. You have _got_ to be kidding me_, Fleur managed to think as her brain began to throb and her chest tightened. _It's_ Him. _It's really_ Him. _Oh, hell no. _

Fleur's thrall suddenly exploded outwards. Harry stumbled back as feathers spilled from beneath the blonde's shimmering skin. The blonde's hair whipped back as her canines sharpened.

"Get ze _fuck_ OUT of my _head_, you bastard!" Fleur snarled, and her thrall wrapped around the intruder, squeezing it tight as it ripped it from her soul. She cried out in pain and then relished the relief of Voldemort's pained scream as he was flung out of the Veela's body with a blast of pure magic.

"Shit," Harry whispered from a few feet away. "W-Was that who I think it was?"

Fleur heaved once more, gripping her wand tightly.

"Okay. Now I'm pissed," she muttered, shoulders hunched in fury.

It didn't matter that Voldemort was one of the most dangerous wizards to have ever lived, and still was despite his weakened state. It didn't matter that he'd slaughtered hundreds, had a hand in the death of thousands. It didn't matter that people were afraid to speak his very name.

All that mattered was that he had royally pissed off Fleur Delacour.

And now he had to pay.

"I'll show you a worthless whore! _Mourir_!" Fleur shouted, jumping to her feet, wand pointed at the bundle of cloth curled beneath the dead man's arm, for she knew now it contained the evil wizard.

"Wait, Fleur! Hold on!" Harry sprang back into action and lunged for Fleur's wand arm, knocking it askew.

The spell shot off wildly in a flash of orange light. It hit a lonely looking gravestone.

Said gravestone was suddenly _gone_.

In a devastating explosion of heat and debris, the gravestone blew to pieces, fire blooming from the eight foot crater Fleur's spell had left in the ground. Its owner was destroyed in the assault.

Harry and Fleur ducked as stone and dirt came flying at them. The crater smoldered and hissed softly.

"Jesus Christ!" Harry yelped as they stood back up, Fleur scowling.

"Harry. Why did you stop me?" Fleur inquired in a barely restrained voice.

The act of invading the Veela's most personal sense of mind had angered her beyond belief. This was the greatest disrespect to a Veela.

"Have you ever heard of overkill?" Harry snapped back and she snorted.

"Yes. I believe it's underestimated too often," Fleur sniffed back haughtily.

"Clearly," Harry muttered.

'Voldemort' was writhing in the dirty looking blanket wrapped around his unseen body. He was making angry, agonized noises, like a baby crying. A demon baby. Fleur really, really didn't want to see what he looked like.

"We can't kill him, Fleur...What if he just disappears like before? He'll just come back...We need to get out of here before more of his people show up or something. The man who tried to kill you was Peter Pettigrew. I think we should try and get him to Dumbledore..." Harry suggested as they watched the squirming bundle.

"_NO_!" Voldemort screamed in his disturbing voice.

Fleur no longer felt fear. Just really, really bad annoyance. In this different light, Voldemort didn't seem powerful and intimidating. Just weak, pathetic. A shell.

"Yes," she snapped back at him. "I think a lot of people would like to have a word with you, _Lord_ Voldemort..." Fleur spat the word 'Lord' with so much scorn that it was impossible to miss.

Harry wasn't so sure about being fearless with the fallen dark wizard.

"Should we just grab him and then the Portkey? And what about Pettigrew?" he scratched his head.

"I'll get Lord Voldemort. You grab the cup and Pettigrew. You're sure he's dead?" Fleur responded, eyeing the two cruel bodies before her.

"Yeah...There's no way he's not. It's just like when I got hit with the curse...Only Pettigrew didn't survive like _Him_..." Harry murmured as he trotted to the cup.

Without hesitation, her magical blood coursing through her veins with rage, Fleur walked forward and snatched Voldemort up in a tight, unforgiving grip. He squealed in pain and Fleur's lip curled in disgust at even touching him. All the horrible things he'd done, the torture, the murder, the mind control...She squeezed him tighter in one hand. She supposed she had him by his tiny arm. Fleur still refused to pull the blanket back and look at him.

"_No! KILL ME! KILL ME! I won't be taken back! I will wreak hell on all of your loved ones! KILL ME_!" Voldemort raged.

"Shut the _fuck_ up," Fleur scoffed as Harry returned with the Portkey and they knelt down next to Pettigrew's body. Harry reluctantly placed a hand on the rat-like man's voluminous stomach. They both avoided looking at his wide, glossy eyes as Voldemort continued to pathetically scream threats and insults. Harry winced at the very sound of his voice. Fleur just snorted.

Just as they each grabbed a handle, Harry said, "Fleur, you are the craziest, most badass woman I've ever met and I'm glad you ended up here with me and not anybody else."

Fleur just smiled as they disappeared with a flash of blue-white light.

* * *

Hermione as well as the rest of the crowd gasped when a void in time and space suddenly ripped open and spit out Fleur Delacour and Harry Potter in the middle of the Quidditch field, in front of the maze. The void promptly sealed up again as the Triwizard cup clattered to the ground next to them.

"Fleur," Hermione breathed, and then bolted down the stairs, the coven and Fleur's mother hot on her heels.

For the past half hour, her stomach had been twisted in knots. Thirty minutes ago, Hermione had realized something had gone horribly wrong. She didn't know how she knew this, but she did. She had barely been able to breathe as she waited tensely for Fleur to...To she didn't know what.

To just appear, okay. Fine.

And there she was, the band playing merrily at their arrival.

Cedric and Krum had both been retrieved from the maze as soon as that horrid feeling had overwhelmed Hermione, as well as the coven and even Apolline. The usually distant, cold woman had bit her lip and moved to her feet, grasping the railing in both hands, looking utterly unnerved.

This frightened Hermione more than anything else. If Apolline was worried, something had to be seriously wrong.

Turns out, Hermione had to race the teachers to get to her mate first. For an old man, Dumbledore could move quite swiftly when the time called for it.

However, Hermione moved just a bit faster.

"Fleur!" she cried and the blond turned from helping Harry to his feet, excited _red_ eyes flickering up at the sound of her mate's voice.

Harry was dropped back on his bottom with a slight 'Oof' as Fleur let him and whatever she was holding go.

"Hermione," Fleur whispered as her mate hit her full force, throwing her arms around the Veela's neck in joy. The blonde's ruby eyes melted to sapphire with relief and elation when her lover leapt into her arms.

"Oh, Fleur, I thought you were _dead_!" Hermione sobbed, painfully aware of the cliché moment of jumping into her returning lover's arms and for once in her life, she didn't even care. The brunette burrowed her face into the crook of Fleur's neck, pressing as closely as possible. She snuggled into Fleur, chest heaving with pure relief.

_She's okay. She's back, and she's okay_, Hermione thought happily.

"Ma belle...My beautiful, Hermione..." Fleur murmured, wrapping her arms around Hermione's waist as she snuggled back.

The crowd was in an uproar at this point, a loud din of rolling cheers and clapping.

But Hermione could barely hear them, because she was suddenly kissing Fleur with as much passion as she could manage, swathing their tongues together in a desperate desire to get closer to her lover. They kissed and kissed and kissed. Fleur groaned and squeezed Hermione closer.

They broke apart amidst screaming cheers and wolf whistles. The coven positively swooned as Apolline smirked slightly, putting one hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"Oh. Sorry," Hermione went bright crimson and Fleur's smile only broadened.

"No, thank you, Hermione. That was quite rejuvenating...You'll never believe what happened...Or who I brought back..." Fleur kissed Hermione's blushing cheeks sweetly, before turning to glance at her mother who had drifted towards Dumbledore.

The crowd was slowly calming down, and now whispers had claimed the stadium. It seemed people had finally noticed that the returning champions had brought back some gruesome souvenirs.

"Fleur, oh, Fleur! Your chest! What is that? What happened? Are you alright?" Hermione suddenly cried upon sighting the lighting scar beneath the blonde's collar bone. Fleur laughed jovially as her mate squirmed in her arms, attempting to look her over to see if she was alright.

"Hermione, I'm fine, really," Fleur tried to soothe her lover, but the brunette wasn't having it.

"That looks like Harry's scar...Fleur, what on earth happened to you in that maze?" Hermione breathed and Fleur shrugged.

"A lot, ma belle...Quite a lot," Was Fleur's vague response.

"Fleur, you performed magnificently!"

"You were ze best, Fleur!"

"You've won ze tournament!"

The coven swarmed over the two embraced lovers and wrapped them in heat and laughter and delight. Fleur laughed as Hermione grumbled mutinously and hid in the comfort of the blonde's shoulder once more.

"Your wounds, zey must be attended to, non?" Inquired one of the Veela, spotting the peculiar mark on Fleur's chest.

"Oui, probably. But there are some things I have to take care of first," Fleur murmured, detaching herself from her coven. "Maman?"

Fleur trotted back towards the teachers who were whispering furiously as the Minister trembled violently.

"It's not Him!" the Minister hissed, clutching his goofy hat in his grubby little fingers. "It can't be, Albus! They lie!"

"Minister, denial will solve nothing at this moment...Look at him, Minister...It is Voldemort..." Dumbledore breathed back as he bent over the wriggling bundle.

"_Dumbledore...You old fool...You cannot end me...Kill me now...I'll only come back...And this time I'll have that Veela as well as Potter..._" Voldemort hissed.

Dumbledore merely tilted his head.

"No, I don't believe you'll be executed. I have a theory of why you wish to be killed so much. You must have a way of coming back again. You've done it twice now, haven't you? Ah, but we can't have that, Tom," Dumbledore murmured, almost in a fatherly way to the disgusting little thing that was concealed in the brown cloth. "And you don't even regret Pettigrew's death, do you?"

"_I only regret that he was so USELESS in the end_!" Voldemort snarled back.

The Minister had covered his ears in an attempt to block out the voice. Apolline looked at him with distaste as she stood beside Mad-Eye Moody and McGonagall. Mad-Eye was looking distinctly infuriated. His chest was heaving, and to Fleur's eyes, his skin almost seemed to...Crawl.

"Maman, what will be done about him? I can't believe this was a part of the tournament," Fleur inquired as she approached her scowling mother.

"No, young Veela, it was not. It was yet another foiled attempt for the Dark Lord to get to Harry. I believe, if it were not for you, he may have succeeded...You should be proud, Apolline," McGonagall broke in as Snape prodded Pettigrew with his toe, looking him over with disgust.

"I am, Minerva. Quite proud, in fact," Apolline replied loftily as she pulled Fleur gently into her arms. She pressed her lips to Fleur's forehead and smiled widely. "Good job, my little flower," Apolline whispered to her beaming daughter.

"Minister, I believe we have a celebration to commence, one far larger than I had first believed, as well as damage control...The crowd has caught on, a bit...I suggest a group of Aurors be summoned to transport Voldemort to a high class Azkaban prison cell, before the public is informed of this tournament upset and his capture. I believe this is the first time we've ever had two winning Champions," Dumbledore turned to the quivering Minister.

"Won't be necessary, Dumbledore!" Mad-Eye intervened suddenly, in a high pitched sort of voice that didn't sound at all like his own.

Hermione had come up behind Fleur at this point and grasped uncertainly at her mate's hand. She knew that even though the tournament was officially over, something still wasn't right. Fleur gave her lover's hand a soft, reassuring squeeze. She had missed Hermione more than anything in that hellish maze.

"I'll take him personally to A-A-_Azkaban_," Mad-Eye's voice had begun to stutter and his skin was twitching now. He made to grab at Voldemort.

"Polyjuice potion...My stores...Dumbledore!" Snape cried with brilliant realization and four wands were suddenly on Mad-Eye, who convulsed wildly, growling like a rabid animal as he tried to get to Voldemort as the Polyjuice potion began to wear off.

McGonagall, Snape, Apolline, and Dumbledore did not have to curse Mad-Eye, for Barty Crouch Jr. suddenly melted into sight before them, gasping and coughing, immobile from the sudden transformation.

"Damn it! Damn it all to hell! My, Lord, I'm sorry, I ran out..." Crouch whimpered on his knees next to the bundle.

"_You can still...Redeem yourself...Get on your feet, Barty...Now_!"

With wild, desperate eyes, Crouch leapt to his feet, wand whipping out from beneath his too large clothes. He had barely got it trained on Fleur who turned her body to shield Hermione when a powerful elbow cracked into his nose.

With a sickening snap, the man in disguise dropped back as Apolline turned and drove her knee into his chest with a lunge forward, blowing the air from his lungs. As he slammed into the ground, Apolline kicked him sharply in the groin.

Crouch let out a soft squeak as he lost consciousness.

Apolline rolled her shoulders experimentally as the stunned group of people watched in silence.

And then Dumbledore began to clap.

"Well done, Apolline! Spectacular display of martial arts!" Dumbledore chuckled and then the coven, Fleur and Hermione applauded, laughing with astonishment.

Apolline smirked. "I figured it was my turn to protect my child," she shrugged.

"Minister, if you will please calm the crowd. My staff and I will take care of Crouch...Never would have expected him, quite a shock...Voldemort and Pettigrew, while you award the Champions their prize," Dumbledore nudged the frozen Minister lightly.

He sputtered, cleared his throat and then, looking shaken but determined, walked towards Harry, who had been distracted by Ron, the Twins and Ginny who were all congratulating him so thoroughly that he didn't notice anything that had just occurred.

The crowd, however, couldn't keep silent. The band had begun to play again as the Minister pointed his wand at his throat and said "_Sonorous_!"

"Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang! For the first time in the history of the Triwizard Tournament, we have two triumphant champions! I give you, _Fleur Delacour and Harry Potter_!"

The crowd went ballistic with an explosive, deafening roar as Fleur and Harry both turned to the stadium, eyebrows raised high. They glanced at each other as Hermione smiled brightly, overwhelmed with pride and joy for her mate.

They both lifted a hand and waved to the crowd, who, if possible, got even louder. The Minister took the Cup from Filch, which had suddenly been filled with piles and piles of golden galleons. He handed it to Fleur and Harry.

"You'll have to split it, sorry...We only had enough for one Champion," he murmured before turning and jogging back towards Dumbledore, who had lifted a screaming bundle in his arms as Snape levitated Pettigrew, who had been covered with a black blanket. McGonagall had to ward off a scowling Apolline as she levitated a rousing Barty Crouch Jr.

"I really don't need this gold, Fleur. You can have it, honest," Harry offered generously as he anxiously stared down on the glittering galleons within the cup.

"And you think that _I_ need it? Non, Harry. The Delacour family is quite wealthy," Fleur declined, and nudged it back toward him as she wrapped her arm around Hermione's waist instead.

"But..."

"Give it to someone who really needs it. What about your friends, the Weasleys? I've heard talk that they want to open a joke shop. That requires quite a lot of money," Fleur suggested as her brunette mate leaned into her happily.

"That's a brilliant idea, Fleur," Hermione praised and Harry's eyes lit up.

"Yeah! That's perfect. Are you sure, though? It's so much..." Harry eyed the gold once more.

"I'm sure, Harry. It was a pleasure partaking in this tournament with you," Fleur nodded and Harry grinned.

"Yeah, you too, Fleur. See you around," he waved as he lugged the heavy cup towards Fred and George Weasley.

The coven had moved back towards them and Fleur had to shrug off their many congratulations and cheek kisses, not to mention their embracing and retelling of Hermione's absolutely _adorable_ anxiety. They eagerly questioned Fleur about what had happened in the maze, especially concerning the lightning bolt shaped scar she'd newly acquired, which Hermione had taken to stroking worriedly, almost without realizing she was doing it.

"Ma belle," Fleur murmured, placing her hand over Hermione's and stilling the wandering fingers beneath her collarbone. "I'm going to start purring if you don't stop it. I'm fine, really." The blond brought those slim, small fingers to her soft, heart shaped lips and kissed them warmly, making the brunette blush.

"I'm sorry. I just can't help it. I was so afraid you weren't going to be okay...What happened in there, Fleur? This scar is just like Harry's and everybody knows how he got his," Hermione fretted and turned her chocolate eyes on Fleur's sapphire ones.

"It's a long story, ma belle. One I will be explaining to _all of you_ in due time," Fleur raised her voice at her still babbling coven who instantly hushed and began to giggle girlishly. Fleur grinned at them before turning back to Hermione and pressing one of the softest, sweetest kisses she'd ever given to her lover right on her lips.

"But for right now, I really just want to go back and rest, and catch up on some snuggling with ma belle," Fleur said and the coven aw'd, swooned, and then swarmed Hermione and Fleur, much to the brunette's chagrin.

Hermione's relief was like taking the world off of her shoulders. She had Fleur back in her arms, and she was okay. The brunette couldn't wait for the tale Fleur would undoubtedly have of what had happened in the maze. Fleur was simply glad to be out of that hell hole. Of all the things that could have happened, running into Voldemort was the last thing she had been expecting.

And she'd beat him. Kind of. Fleur really wanted to know how she had survived the killing curse, why and how the Dark Lord had managed to arrive in the first place, and whether or not there would be any after affects from being hit by the curse.

All of those questions would be answered in time; she was sure of that. Fleur felt almost dazed as the realization of everything she'd been through that night suddenly hit her full force. The blond really, really just wanted to lie down, curl up against Hermione and sleep.

"Hermione?" Fleur muttered as she pressed her face into the crook of her lover's neck and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl's waist in an intimate embrace.

"Hmm?" Hermione shivered as Fleur's thrall lazily coiled around her, cuddling the brunette. Hermione suddenly felt lackadaisical, sleepy.

"Let's go take a nap," Fleur mumbled and Hermione smiled widely at the child like quality of Fleur's voice.

"Definitely," she replied and together, waving off their peers and the many people trying to get at Fleur, they began to walk back towards the castle, hand in hand under the bright moonlight and twinkling stars.

And for the first time in a long time, to them both, everything was absolutely perfect.

* * *

**_You didn't think I'd really kill Fleur, did you? ;] Psh. As if I could. _**


	21. Chapter 21

**_Last chapter, just to clear things up and finish it out. I enjoyed writing this story. It was my first Fleur/Hermione fiction. Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did. _**

* * *

Hermione's breath fogged out of her mouth in frosty white puffs as she inhaled and then exhaled the cool, sweet night air. She leaned on the balcony with her arms crossed and her face tilted upward, wandering over the breath taking, gleaming stars hanging in the blackness.

Hermione had never been happier in her fourteen years of life. She was snug and warm in the new jacket Fleur had bought her, which was lined with fake fur that felt silky and real (without the macabre thought of the actual stuff) and the cold didn't bother the brunette, save for her nose and cheeks which had flushed a rosy red.

The balcony she was leaning over was of a gorgeous mansion set on an amazing French countryside, staring out over a lake with rolling hills disappearing into the distance, snowcapped mountains lining the horizon. It was Christmas Break, and instead of going home to her parents as she usually did at this time of the year, Hermione had gone home with Fleur.

She had come out to her parents, after little hesitation due to her Gryffindor pride. The actual coming out was short, sweet and shocking...To Hermione.

"_Mum, Dad...I've got to tell you something. There's no point beating around the bush; I'm gay."_

_Hermione's mother and father barely blinked as they sipped their coffee on the couch._

"_You didn't know, sweetheart?" the brunette's father's eyebrow arched. _

"_We've been waiting for that for years, honey," her mother smiled gently as Hermione's jaw went a bit slack. _

"_B-but...What? How? I've only just found out this past year..."_

_"Parents know these things," Mrs. Granger patted her daughter's hand and Mr. Granger nodded his head. "But please, tell us of how you found out. We've been keeping up with the wizard news. Who is this Fleur girl?"_

_Hermione, feeling a bit numb, but pleased, proceeded to launch into the epic tale of how she had met and fell in love with Fleur Delacour. _

And so it went. Because Hermione and Fleur were still in their Eduquer period, they could not be separated for long, therefore Hermione really needed to spend Christmas Break with her lover. After much explaining, arguing and narrow convincing, the Granger parents agreed to let their daughter go to France...But only if they came along to supervise.

Besides, when they met Fleur at the Portkey, they became quite charmed by the beautiful blond. Hermione watched with mild amusement as Fleur smiled sweetly and calmly informed the Grangers of how portkeys worked.

Now, Hermione was in France for the fifth day, and had fallen deeply for the country. It was a gorgeous place, and having Fleur at her side made it that much better.

Hermione's mind wandered, though. Not everything had been happy and peachy. There had been _so _many court hearings concerning Fleur and Voldemort, including Crouch Jr. and Pettigrew's apparent reanimation from the dead. So many questions were asked. So many remained to be answered. However, it was found out that Crouch had cursed the bludger that attacked Hermione and was the reason Harry was entered into the tournament in the first place.

But now, Crouch Jr. was being kissed by a dementor, Sirius Black's case had been rapidly reopened for the supposed crimes he'd committed (and Hermione was quite optimistic that his name would soon be cleared), and Voldemort...

Voldemort was locked in a high security prison constructed purely for his benefit. At least a hundred Aurors constantly guarded his cell, with hundreds of spells, jinxes and curses between him and the outside to prevent him from being stolen away.

Dumbledore had, apparently, cracked the code on his ability to come back. Voldemort had apparently ripped his soul into seven pieces, the thought of which made Hermione's stomach churn, and cast them into several Hogwarts House objects, as well as things related to his ancestors and/or family. This allowed him to live on even when one part of his soul was destroyed.

The objects were called Horcruxes, and could only be decimated by powerful magic, such as basilisk venom or cursed fire. Harry had already destroyed one; Tom Riddle's old diary. Voldemort could only ever put his soul back together through intense, unimaginable pain through remorse for his crimes.

Hermione really didn't see that happening.

Voldemort would remain in that prison until all the Horcruxes had been found and eliminated, and then the killing curse would be performed upon him. They would take no chances by merely feeding his soul to a dementor.

As far as the public knowing, Rita Skeeter had released any and all classified information, but somehow managed not to get arrested. The world was in an uproar over this, and four of the seven Horcruxes had already been found by the people themselves.

Not to mention the outcry of astonishment and amazement of the epic Triwizard Tournament. Fleur was now as much of a legend as Harry. She had survived the killing curse. She had helped capture Voldemort. Dumbledore had informed them that the reason Fleur had been able to survive it was due to the protection Hermione's love and sacrifice had given Fleur when she had dived in front of the murderous bludger, effectively saving Fleur's life, and nearly ending her own. In fact, according to Madam Pomfrey, Hermione's life _had_ ended for at least a few seconds. It was pretty much exactly what Lily and James Potter had done for their son.

Hermione sighed softly to herself as she rested on the balcony. She'd have jumped in front of a million bludgers if it meant saving Fleur. The lightning scar that marked the place just beneath the hollow of Fleur's collarbone was a mark that Hermione constantly worried at. It was the place that had almost marked the end of her mate's life.

"Bonjor, ma belle," a high, sweet voice sounded behind the brunette as Fleur herself walked out onto the balcony. Hermione glanced over her shoulder, eyes lighting up and her mouth spreading into a smile.

"Hello, Fleur," Hermione murmured back.

"What are you doing out here in ze cold, ma belle?" Fleur inquired softly as she approached, wrapping her arms around the brunette's midriff as she snuggled into the back of Hermione's neck. Fleur's accent had become more prominent as she returned to her homeland.

Hermione shivered and pressed back into Fleur, immediately overwhelmed my thrall that pulsed with affection and contentment.

"Mm...Just thinking," Hermione breathed back, quivering slightly when Fleur lightly kissed the back of her neck.

"'Bout what?" Fleur mumbled, pressing her cheek into the side of Hermione's neck and squeezing her close.

"Everything that's happened over the last year...It's incredible, really...And the stars...They're so bright out here in the country, Fleur...France is beautiful, just like you..." Hermione whispered, knowing she had Fleur's full attention.

"Oui, it is, ma belle. But ze stars, zey do not shine quite as bright as you. You are ze only star I see, 'ermione. Ze rest are piles of dust and glitter for all I care when you are near me," Fleur replied loftily and Hermione's eyes fluttered as her heart skipped a beat.

"My beautiful, 'ermione...Do not dwell on ze zings zat will make you worry, or sad. I see it in your eyes; my scars are well earned, and I would not trade zem for ze world. You are pained by zem, but I see zem as reminders of how much I love you...I wish you would, too..." Fleur continued, swaying gently with Hermione in her arms. "I am proud of zem. Zey are symbols of 'ow far I would go to protect you...And I would go farther still..."

The brunette began to feel lulled into a deep sense of happiness and security.

"As for ze rest of ze worries, over ze tournament and what people will say...Do not bother yourself wiz zem. They are apart from us, 'ermione. Zere is only you, and me. Nothing can come between us anymore. Zey are whispers on ze wind; let zem go, and fade, and zey will disappear from you, leaving only us, leaving only zis..."

And Fleur cupped Hermione's cheek, turning the girl to face her as she kissed her warmly, lovingly, passionately. The rest of the world was wiped away as Fleur embraced her tightly, kissing her with all of her love.

"Oh, Fleur...I love you so much...But I'm just so afraid that something else will pop up and try to keep us apart..." Hermione whimpered softly as their lips broke and her body tingled.

"Zey will not," Fleur hissed vehemently, determined sapphire orbs boring into Hermione's chocolate ones. "Nothing will ever keep you from me, ma belle. I swear it," Fleur lowered her voice and kissed Hermione again, this time softer, more soothingly.

Hermione swooned and melted into Fleur. Her concerns became trivial, and Fleur held her tightly in her arms to keep it that way.

"But if you insist on reliving memories, ma belle...I know of one particularly good one we could both partake in..." Fleur grinned sexily and Hermione blushed.

Fleur chuckled and kissed Hermione's forehead. "Does ze balcony ring any bells? Ze stars, per'aps?"

Hermione shuddered and nodded, her breath coming faster now. Though she and Fleur had made love many times now, the thought of touching and being touched by her gorgeous, godly lover still made Hermione go weak in the knees.

"Yes...I remember..." she whispered and Fleur's smile became much more gentler.

"Let's relive our first time, Hermione," Fleur murmured, her accent fading slightly. "Let's start all over and do it better this time...I love you, ma belle...Je taime, 'ermione..."

"I love you, too, Fleur...So much...I love you so much..."

Their mouths locked together and morphed into one another instantly. Bodies pressed together and molded into one as the stars twinkled merrily. Heat began to warm the frosty night. The air was filled with soft moans, panting and breathy cries.

It was love in its purest form.

And to Hermione's eyes, the coming sun rise some hours later and all its glorious oranges, reds, yellows, blue's and pinks simply could not burn or shine quite as brightly or passionately as her lovely, beautiful Fleur Delacour.

* * *

**_I'm contemplating doing a short, fluffy, smutty sequel to this. If I do, it will take a while for you guys to get it, because I would write the whole thing before I posted it. It wouldn't be much more than ten chapters, if that, at best._**

**_And that, folks, is The End of Affliction. _**


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